


Thou Art to Me a Delicious Torment

by littlegreenfish



Series: Thou Art to Me a Delicious Torment [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bisexuality, Dubious Consent, F/M, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pegging, Threesome - F/M/M, hook and jefferson being little shits who choose misery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 45,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlegreenfish/pseuds/littlegreenfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian and Jefferson both have complicated histories with the Queen of Hearts. Killian worships her, and Jefferson fears her. When Cora takes up residence with Jefferson in her quest to win back her daughter's heart, the two men are properly introduced. After Cora's sudden death, what will become of the Captain and the Hatter? Endgame: MadHook. Along the way: Cora/Killian, Cora/Jefferson, & Cora/Jefferson/Hook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Setting Sail

"We failed." Cora's lips pursed, but even so no light faded from her eyes. There was no time for that: a machine so well oiled never stopped moving for long.

Sighing, Hook glanced at his companion, pride and pompousness in both his stance and his tone. 

"Really, Cora. After all this time, why do you still doubt me?" He asked, holding up the shriveled, dead bean that he'd taken from the giant as a prize.

"That bean's petrified, it's useless." Cora nearly sneered, her nose in the air and a light trace of contempt in her voice.

"But these waters have regenerative properties," Hook paused for a moment, seeing the wheels in Cora's mind stop turning for a split second as they were both struck with perfect clarity. "perhaps it's time to do some gardening."

He tossed his prize into the water, and it began to move. Next to him, Cora's red lips curled into a deadly smile, and he felt his insides tighten. No one ran from the Queen of Hearts: and for all of his carelessness, Hook had never thought to try.

 

xxx

 

Killian Jones had sailed the seas: all seven of them. He considered himself an excellent navigator. Cora, for her part, had obliged his ego and allowed him plot their route. Both of them needed to reach Storybrooke. That compulsion was something that they would never doubt in one another.

“How long until our arrival?” She asked, parasol over her shoulder as she opened the door to his cabin without asking.

“A matter of hours.” He answered confidently, looking up and meeting her gaze. “Assuming that the two worlds truly are parallel.”

“And if they aren’t?” Her lips drew together in a frown, and Hook’s drew apart in a grin.

“Why bother with such questions? Snow White’s portal worked, and so will this one.” He was confident as always.

“I hope that you’re right, _Captain_.” Head held high, she approached him and grabbed his chin, forcing their gazes to meet. Whether or not her words dripped with sugar or poison, he could never tell. From the corner of his eye, he saw her set her parasol down on the cot where he slept. Why did she need both hands? “For your sake.”

Before meeting Cora, Hook had never even considered that someone so slight could be so mighty. Peter Pan and his boys had been clever and courageous, but they had also been innocent and ignorant. Cora was more dangerous than any sea serpent, any reptile at all, that Hook had ever encountered. 

“I wouldn’t dare displease you, _Your Majesty_.” Hook’s words didn’t drip with anything: they floated above responsibility and consequence. The look in Cora’s eyes could mean anything, and he knew better than to dare try and interpret it. Such a thing could quite literally cost him his head, or at least his heart.

“A few hours, you say?” She didn’t pause to let him repeat himself. They both knew what he’d said. “Then we have plenty of time.”

“Time? For what?” He asked, and her grip tightened on his chin, fingernails starting to dig in.

“Don’t be rude.” She released him from her physical grip, but in the next moment he felt her magic take hold of him, and he was forced against the wall of his own sleeping quarters.

Briefly he tried to move, but found it nearly impossible. Only his face was capable of movement. Even the smallest joints in his fingers wouldn’t move an inch. For a moment he wondered why she still had magic, but quickly realized that they were not yet in Storybrooke. They were still between two different worlds: a place where, he was sure, anything could happen. 

“So what, pray tell, does the Queen of Hearts have on her mind?” He asked, tense despite his usual nonchalant disposition. He knew that she wouldn’t kill him: they were mutual beneficiaries, and killing was too easy. She would either do something much better, or much worse. 

“Snow White and her family mean little to me. My daughter is what’s important.” Cora drawled, her eyes narrowed as she moved a hand to Hook’s chest, pressing it over his heart. “But I’m not a fool, I respect them. I recognize every threat that they pose, few and small as they are.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” Hook asked, his voice still smooth as satin as he looked down at the woman who had promised him vengeance.

“You’ve spent too much time in Neverland, Killian.” Gaze caught between motherly and toxic, she moved her hand up and traced his jawline with the tip of her index finger. “You’ve forgotten exactly what those boys lost.”

“I’m afraid that I don’t follow.” Again, he tried to at least move his wrists. For a second time, he failed.

“They lost more than themselves.” She paused, and Hook realized that he’d been holding his breath. “They lost their mothers.” She whispered, the tip of her finger against his bottom lip as he struggled not to breathe out against her skin. “And that, as I’m sure my daughter could tell you, is a terrible thing to lose.”

“And what does that have to do with my current…vertical status, as it were?” Hook asked, his gaze threatening to plunge downward with Cora’s neckline. His current position would have been delightful, had he been able to look down at a less dangerous woman. He didn’t dare look at her face either, so he instead focused for the open door across from him, seeing blue sky and gentle waves surrounding the ship.

“I heard what you said to Snow White’s daughter. What was it? Something about her _horizontal_ status, and your own urge to breach her with your sword, willing or not?”

“You can’t possible be angry with me for a joke.” Cora had to be going on a different tangent: his remarks to Swan had been in the heat of battle, and to an enemy. Cora had no reason to cross swords with him over _that_.

“I’m disappointed in you, Killian. I’m disappointed in you for your blatant disrespect toward the sex who bore you. We bravely put aside our own unwillingness for man’s precious _sword_ for our own greater good. That’s a sacrifice that both my daughter and I have had to make, and yet you make light of it. You treat it as something trivial. Do you have any idea the power that comes with womanhood? The risk? Do you know nothing of women?”

“You can’t be serious.” Nearly laughing, Hook looked down into Cora’s eyes and felt his pulse nearly stop. Cora was, quite clearly, very serious. And yet, how could she be? Hadn’t it been Cora herself who had pushed Regina into an unwilling marriage, into an unwilling bed? 

“I see the way that you treat women, Killian. You assume that they want you, that their bodies crave you, and why shouldn’t you? You are, I will admit, what most would call handsome.”

Her fingers moved across his skin, her touch dangerously delicate.

“…and what would _you_ call me, Cora?” He breathed out, realizing that more parts of his body were mobile than he thought if the stirring in his breaches were any indication.

“ _Common.”_ She breathed out. Not for the first time since they’d met, Hook felt a rare tremor in his constitution. “…for too long, you’ve wasted your days chasing lost boys and our dear, dear crocodile, no different from any other man who has loved and lost.”

“Again,” Hook was speaking more slowly now. He knew how easy it would be to anger Cora further. “I must ask you what that has to do with _this_.” He gave a fruitless attempt at movement. 

“If you’re right, and you wouldn’t dare be wrong, we have time before reaching Storybrooke.” Cora murmured, motherly again as she splayed her fingers against his own neckline, hooking them in the collar of his jacket. “…and I think it would serve you well to learn the sheath is just as effective as the sword, if you’re willing.”

“For you, Cora?” Again, Hook felt what lay between his legs stir hopefully.  “How could I say no?”

 


	2. On the Open Sea

“For you, Cora?” Again, Hook felt what lay between his legs stir hopefully. “How could I say no?”

Killian wasn’t unintelligent: far from it. He was exceptionally clever, and he knew it. He knew that lust was on Cora’s mind. It had been before; and it would be again.

He had tasted her before. After the curse had broken, more than magic had been between them as he opened his mouth to the wet, delicious heat between her thighs.  
It had been a quick, easy hour to celebrate the curse being broken. They had both been elated, and willing to oblige one another.

“You’d never say no to me?” She crooned in mock-affection, and Hook was brought back to the present. “…if you truly had any idea what I’m capable of, you’d never say anything so foolish.” Her hand moved down his paralyzed form to delicately cup what lay between his thighs. “I would blame your words on your youth, but we both know that you’re not young at all. Your years with the lost boys were years all the same.”

Too softly for her intentions to be anything but agonizing, she squeezed between his legs, and Hook would have shuddered if not for his immobile state against the wall of his cabin. Her eyes were narrowed thoughtfully; dark lashes framing her eyes; painted lips slightly parted.

Drawing in a breath, Hook strained to turn his head down, to see what her hand looked like against his trousers.

“I’m aquiver with curiosity.” He breathed out, a low growl in the back of his throat, already starting to salivate.

“Curiosity? Is that all?” She droned, and suddenly Hook’s body was free. It had been unexpected, and he fell to the ground, to his knees. His surprisingly intact heart thudded in his chest, and he looked up at the woman in front of him with minor unease. He could still feel her magic in the air: it emanated even more strongly from her than the air that she breathed.

He had been with plenty of women in his time, but Cora was something else. Even Milah, as much as he had loved her, had been familiar as a woman. She had been more than anything he could have imagined, but a woman she had been: and women were what he knew.

Cora was something altogether different. Whether or not it was her age or her magic, he didn’t know. Maybe it was a little bit of both.

“…perhaps not.” Hook admitted, making a measured and wary move to get to his feet.

“No.” A hand in his hair stilled him, and the coldness in her voice made his gut clench. “I want you on your knees.”

“Am I so common that you would have me kneel before you like a peasant?” He breathed out, but remained on the ground, his hand helping to support him while his hook came to rest on the very edge of her boot.

“In the eyes of any other queen, Killian, you’d be even less than that.” Cora gripped his hair more tightly, and he tensed. “…you’re a pirate.”

“I’m a captain.” He didn’t break their gaze: he knew that she was stronger, but that didn’t mean that he was weak.

“Yes, dear. Captain Hook. You’ve sailed the seven seas. You’ve fought the crocodile. You’ve pillaged and stolen, lied and cheated.” She abruptly turned her wrist, strengthened by her conduct as much as her magic, and he found himself flat on his back. “…but you lack accountability. You need to learn that every action has a consequence.”

“…and, pray tell, what is this a consequence for, Your Majesty?” Hook breathed out, looking up at the woman who had spared both his heart and his life on multiple occasions.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something you’ve done that deserves retribution.” Killian couldn’t tell if Cora was moving slowly, or if he was simply so caught up in the moment that his mind wasn’t moving as fast as it should have been.

Kneeling behind his head, she cupped his face in a small but strong hand, her touch cool against his heated, and unshaven cheek. With her free hand, she leaned over him to undo the intricate metal clasps that kept his coat closed. Under it, he wore nothing: Killian had no hesitation about being exposed, especially to beautiful women.

For his part, he could see her chest above as him rose and fell with every breath. It was painfully covered by her dress, and with all of his might he wished it gone.

As her fingers worked over the clasps, far too slowly for his liking, she continued to speak.

“What would you do, Killian, if I were one of the women you find in coastal taverns? Would you be so careful then, or would you have already spent yourself against a willing body?”

“I’ve survived long enough to know better than to compare someone like you to a common whore, Cora.” Hook sighed, and their eyes briefly met. “What do you take me for? A fool?”

“Maybe not a fool.” She pulled one side of the garment open, exposing half of his chest. “…but I will take you.”

Hook couldn’t hide the shiver that went down his spine as she opened his jacket completely, and his front was bared to her.

“Oh, and look at you now, Killian.” Her fingers moved to one of his nipples, nails scraping over it, the nub surprisingly hard. “I have to wonder if the rest of you is quite so…elated.”

No other woman had made color rise in his cheeks so quickly: no other woman had been able to rob him of his conviction in as little as a row of undone fastenings.

“Cora.” Hook moved his hand over hers, and she made no move to stop him.

“Yes, Killian?” She let the fingers of her other hand brush over his lips.

“You’re being painstakingly deliberate. Why?” He asked, looking into her eyes.

“I suppose you’re right. After all…” She mused, turning in a fluid movement so that she was on top of him, her knees on either side of his hips as she took his face in both hands. “…I do normally prefer to do more pleasurable things when I have a man on his back.” She whispered into his ear.

His face began to burn, though with what sentiment he was unsure.

“Cora.” He breathed her name again, but this time it wasn’t a question, and Cora knew it. The pressure between his legs was only increasing, and he was very much regretting the tightness of his trousers. There wasn’t any room, and soon the tension would become painful.

“…as mighty as you think you are, you’d do well not to forget that it was a woman who brought you into this world…and it just might be woman who will bring you into the next.” Moving down slightly, she leaned over him, her skirts spread over both of their legs, and finally pressed their lips together.

There was nothing soft or chaste about Cora’s kisses. They always had purpose. Hook didn’t have any time to question what she wanted, all that he could do was kiss her back. A groan already building in his throat, he let her tongue pry him open, his body feeling suddenly too hot for the open sea.

One of Cora’s hands was in his hair, the other giving the one of the hard, sensitive nubs on his chest a rigid pinch. That was something that no woman had ever done before, and a sound escaped Hook’s mouth into the kiss. Again, his face flooded with color, embarrassed at his body for emitting such a womanly reaction.

Slowly she sat up, pulling him with her.

“Come.” She whispered, and they got to their feet. Still clothed, makeup and hair looking untouched, she stood before him as if expecting something from the captain.

He looked at her questioningly for a moment, and then found himself answered as he felt his jacket fall from his shoulders, Cora’s magic pulling it to the floor.

“This won’t be about your pleasure, Killian.” She whispered, their gazes locked as she reached forward to undo his trousers.

“Then what will it be about?” He asked, letting out a thankful sigh as some of the pressure on his erection was relieved.

“A lesson.” Putting a hand against his chest, between his pectorals, Cora began to walk: to lead Hook onto the deck.

“And what will I learn?” He asked, his backward steps confident as he continued to look at her. She really was exquisite: older women didn’t get enough credit for their beauty.

“If I told you now, there would be no point in doing this.” Her hand moved from his chest to his throat in an instant, and Hook found himself arching back over the side of the ship, the railing pressing into his lower back.

“And what exactly are you doing?” Hook asked, stunned by the sudden change in position. He could hear water moving against the ship, and felt sea spray against the back of his head. Cora wasn’t going to push him off the ship: so what was she going to do? Resolving to be in a helpless position didn’t sit well with Killian: being bent over his own ship at Cora’s mercy was quite different from agreeing to wait among corpses for Snow White and her brood.

“You keep asking me to spoil the surprise. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Cora asked, fingers still wrapped around his throat as she leaned over him and captured his mouth in a remarkably greedy kiss.

His hands moved to her waist, and for a few moments he gave into how demanding her lips were, how they made him heat up and melt. He’d been intending to reply when she pulled away, but found all of his words lost.

Feeling teeth on his lower lip, Killian willingly opened his mouth for the Queen of Hearts, his thoughts softening into a hot, red haze as her clever fingers found his nipple again. It hurt, but that didn’t mean that it pained him.

The heaviness of his cock straining against his trousers was truly uncomfortable by that point, and he reached down to draw himself out, to display his eagerness for Cora to see.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” She smirked, their lips brushing as she spoke.

“What?” Hook asked, a little bewildered as he gently gripped his arousal. “You can’t possibly expect me to keep myself tucked in.”

Cora just laughed and pinched his nipple even harder, causing Killian to hiss in surprise and mild discomfort as she gave her fingers a small twist.

“You’re going to bruise me.” He half-laughed. It wasn’t something that angered him. Cora was good with her hands, and he was comfortable with his body bearing the consequences of being with a beautiful woman.

“Something to remember me by when we part ways on the coast.”

Their mouths were together again, and he was sitting on the edge of the railing, Cora dangerously straddling him. A sudden movement could easily send both of them over the edge. Hungry for more, Hook tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her up to deepen the kiss.

She responded by biting down on his lip again and giving the sore nub on his chest a harsh squeeze: this was her game, not his. Frustrated, Hook settled for parting his lips and letting her ravage him. This, he decided, was a taste that he never wanted to get out of his mouth.

He moved his hand from her hair to her chest, cursing the thick fabric of her dress.

“In time.” She promised into the kiss, her own voice low with arousal, its already husky undertones magnified.

“Now.” It was difficult to truly be afraid of Cora when he wanted her so badly.

“Patience.” She chided, glancing down to where Hook’s arousal was resting between his stomach and her skirts. “I must warn you now, Captain, if you make a mess on this dress I’m afraid just might make you walk the plank.”

“If you want it to keep it clean, then maybe you should take it off.” Hook countered, absently rubbing his fingers over the nipple that Cora had been abusing.

“You’re so clever.” Rolling her eyes, Cora slid down off of Hook’s thighs and stood, her hands planted firmly on his hips to keep him down.

Hook knew that he was a splendid sight: his face flushed and his pants barely holding onto his hips. Cora’s attentions were keeping him hard, and his erection was out of his unlaced trousers and against his stomach, resting on the trail of hair that led down past his bellybutton.

Seeming appreciative, Cora slowly looked him up and down. “Just look what I’ve done to you.” She said softly, the only sign of her own arousal a slight deepening in her voice and a light rise in the color of her cheeks. “You carry too much of your strength in your sword, Killian. That could very well be the end of you.”

“It could be worse.” He pushed his hips up into her grip, his eagerness clear and erect between his legs.

“Turn around.” She pulled back, her frown deepening when he made no move to do as he was told. “I said turn around.”

“Why?” Hook asked, meeting her gaze with a brazen scowl. It was a dangerous thing to question an order from the Queen of Hearts, but how could he not? There was little that they could do for one another with his back turned.

Eyebrows furrowing and her teeth becoming visible, Cora moved her hand through the air, and Killian was abruptly forced onto his stomach, the hard railing jutting painfully against his hipbones.

“Did you never learn your manners, Captain Hook?” Cora whispered, leaning over him and reaching down to squeeze his backside in a bruising grip. “When a lady speaks, you listen.”

“Apparently not.” He grunted, uncomfortable and irritated with the way that her weight was pressing against his back, trapping him against the railing. He could see the water below him, and it was a familiar sight. The gentle rocking of the boat caused his erection to occasionally brush against the side of the ship, and he was glad that the wood had been smoothed with good care and old age. Of all the places he didn’t want a splinter, that had to be number one.

Securing her fingers in the back of his trousers, Cora pulled down and they were around his ankles a moment later, leaving him exposed to the queen.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Killian.” She whispered, her voice dropping one octave in tone and raising two in deadliness. “That lovely coat of yours covers up some of your greatest assets, wouldn’t you agree?”

In all of his years, no woman had ever done this to him: no woman had ever bent him over to see him from behind. They’d whistled as he left a room, or grabbed on to gain leverage while he fucked them, but never this. If it had been anyone but Cora, Hook would have retaliated.

But it was Cora, and he knew better than to say no.

“What are you going to do to me?” He asked, not fearful yet, only curious. He had no reason to believe that she was going to do anything too unexpected.

“Patience.” Cora gave him another squeeze, her nails digging into the soft, breakable skin where his buttocks became his thighs. “Wait and see.”

Hook didn’t want to wait: he wanted to hike up Cora’s dress and rut against her until her hair was damp and her lipstick long gone, washed away with kisses and sweat. How it had come to this: Captain Hook bent over on his own ship, he had no idea. Letting out a frustrated groan, he raised up his hand and to grip the railing, not caring to take the effort to strain his neck and watch her. Feeling her was enough. 

“No one’s ever seen you like this, have they?” She whispered. “…no one with my intentions, anyway.” Leaning down, she idly kissed the back of his neck a few times. Hook didn’t have to ask to know that she tasted sweat. “…perhaps in battle, but I’m afraid that war is one of the last things on my mind right now.”

“And what are your intentions, my dear Cora?” Hook’s voice was almost a growl. His arousal had gotten to the point where it was more frustrating than pleasurable. “For such a sunny day as it is, you seem to be enjoying keeping me in the dark.”

Had Hook thought to look over his shoulder, he would have seen her expression darken.

“Listen to me, Killian Jones. Let me make myself abundantly clear.” She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. “This isn’t about your pleasure. It’s about mine. The only thing you are to gain from it is wisdom.”

Captain Killian Jones wasn’t used to being afraid. The anguished, terrified state he’d been in while being forced to watch Milah’s death had made all else pale in comparison. He wasn’t pale now: his face was flushed, and his brow was damp with sweat. In a rare moment, words wouldn’t come to him: he had no response for Cora, no rebuttal or clever remark.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me, Captain?” She asked, breath ghosting over the side of his face as she gave his backside another squeeze. It sent a surprising wave of pleasure to his aching length, and he bit down on his lower lip to keep back a moan.

“Carry on.” He murmured after another second of silence, his gaze still focused on the water. “Carry…carry on.”

“Good.” She whispered her approval and let go of his hair, allowing him to lower both his head and his gaze. Pulling back slightly, Cora looked down and gripped both cheeks, spreading them slightly.

“What are you doing, Cora?” Hook’s voice rose slightly in both pitch and seriousness, and he gripped the railing hard, body tense. “Why are you doing that?”

“There are some things that all men should experience, Killian. You are no exception.”

“That’s enough.” His heart was beating too fast: something was wrong. He began to turn around, willing to stop what they were doing in favor of keeping his dignity.

“Don’t.” The simple word came out in a snarl, and Cora’s hand landed hard on his backside. Hook was too shocked to continue to move, and for a moment he went limp. That was all that Cora needed: in the next moment, he was bound with magic, his feet rooted to the deck. Once he’d stopped trying to move, her voice returned to its normal aloofness. “Don’t, Killian. Don’t.”

She raised a hand into the air, and a small bottle that Killian would have recognized from his cabin materialized in her fingers. Delicately spreading some of its contents onto two of her fingers, she moved them down his spine, leaving a small trail of oil leading down to the curve of his backside.

For his part, Hook could only shiver in unknown anticipation. What Cora was doing troubled him. Even though he didn’t want let the thought register, he knew where her fingers were going. “Cora.” He said more quietly. It wasn’t an objection: they both knew that he wouldn’t say no.

“Don’t speak unless spoken to.” She murmured back, fingers moving further and further south. Hook‘s body clenched involuntarily as they reached their destination. “Relax.” She added softly, her other hand gently splayed between his shoulder blades as she pushed the digits forward.

It felt strange. He wasn’t yet sure how he felt about it, but it was new, and something that he’d never wanted. He knew better than to speak, but he couldn’t help but let out a small, low sound as her fingers ventured deeper and found something wonderful.

“Yes, Hook?” She said gently, giving him permission for a more articulate response.

“F…fuck.” He growled, far less eloquent than usual. He hadn’t known. He’d never known. Never asked, and never told. The light pressure between his legs, Cora’s touch against what he’d never felt before, was driving him insane. He needed release, but it was clear that Cora wasn’t going to provide it. At the same time, though his upper half wasn’t bound by magic, it seemed that he couldn’t bear to move his hand from the railing. It was gripping too tightly, and he needed to be grounded. 

“You’ve done this to women, haven’t you? The particularly…wild ones.” She pushed her fingers in hard, and he shuddered and clenched, trying not to push back. “Answer me, Hook.”

“Yes.” He admitted, the word rushed and his breathing uneven.

“Then you’re no stranger to what comes next.”

“But…” Brow furrowed, he glanced over his shoulder, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. “You don’t have—“

“But I have magic.” She cut him off, and their eyes met for a brief instant before he looked away again.

A large part of Hook wanted to protest and turn away, to jump ship and swim back to Fairytaleland. The part of him that wanted to survive, to avoid Cora’s wrath, kept him silent. Besides that, it did feel good. His body was willing, even if the rest of him was uncertain.

Her fingers withdrew, and Hook tensed. Yes, Cora had magic, but what did that mean? His eyes were squeezed shut, and his muscles taught. It was a few moments before anything happened.

More suddenly than he’d expected, Hook felt something between his legs. It wasn’t solid: it wasn’t even really physical. It was magic, and he knew it, and he didn’t want to let it in. “Cora—“ He let out her name again.

“Shh…” She murmured, planting a gentle kiss to the back of his neck. He felt another push forward, and he was breached. It hurt. It more than hurt. It burned. Was this what the women had felt like?

He couldn’t imagine that it was all that different: this was part of the anatomy that went unchanged between the sexes, equally sensitive and equally unmade for this. Cora didn’t push her magic forward until his muscle relented and began to relax. For that, Killian was incredibly grateful.

Sometimes, he had wondered what it would be like to be a woman: to be fucked. This, he realized, was the closest that he was going to get. The pressure began to pull back, and Hook realized that his legs were free as he tried to move back with it, not wanting to lose the feeling.

“Relax.” Cora increased pressure on the hand between Hook’s shoulders, keeping him down and keeping him in place. “Just relax.”

He realized that there had been little cause for worry as he was filled again. The stretch of his muscle hurt, but he was eager for Cora’s magic to find what her fingers had sought out earlier. That was worth the pain. It didn’t take long for Killian to get used to what it felt like to have something (someone?) inside of him: the push and pull of Cora’s magic against a place that had, up until that point, been private.

More quickly than he’d expected, Hook got his wish: in fact, it almost came as a surprise. Suddenly overcome with pleasure, he cried out and curled against the railing, the bruises that were blossoming on his hips the very least of his concerns.

“Hell!” He cried out, letting out a rare whimper and scrambling to find a hold.

“You can touch yourself.” Cora murmured, her voice gentle though her magic was not, the thrusts increasing in both pace as intensity as Hook’s responses became less controlled.

Taking those words as both an order and as his liberation, Hook moved his hand down and furiously started to move it over his arousal, guttural sounds ripping themselves from his throat as he fought his way to a well-deserved release.

“Say it.” Cora said simply, and Hook knew exactly what she meant.

“Y…your… your…” His voice was weak: his body was weak. He’d never felt like this before.

“Yes. Yes.” Though Cora’s hands had stayed out of her skirts, Killian didn’t doubt that there was heat between her legs.

“Your Majesty!” Hook cried out, finally reaching an orgasm as he furiously moved his hand, release hitting the deck as he trembled and moaned, moving desperately back against what was inside of him as he strove to ride out his relief full force.

Cora’s magic withdrew and evaporated, and Hook slumped down to his knees, breath coming out in shattered gasps. His trousers were still around his ankles, and his back and legs were sore and tight from being bent over.

Slight but strong hands drew him up, though his knees were still shaking. The walk back to his cabin was awkward to say the least.

Laying down her captain, the Queen of Hearts sat on the edge of the cot and reached behind herself, undoing the complicated fastenings that kept her dress on her frame.

“What now?” Hook asked, watching her with exhausted curiosity.

“All magic comes with a price, my dear.” She whispered, her bodice falling down to reveal her bare chest. “But for you, Killian, I am willing to pay.” Taking his hand, she guided it to her bosom and leaned down.

What came after that was gentle and well deserved. It was his hands on her breasts, and his mouth seeking out what lay under the soft brown curls between her legs. After that, Cora urged him to find sleep in the final hour of their journey. He was happy to indulge, and found himself slipping out of consciousness as she was lacing up her dress.

“Killian! Put yourself together!”

Startled awake, Killian sat up and looked to Cora, his trousers still around his ankles. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the excitement in his chest: they’d arrived.

Grin positively feral, Hook swung his legs over the edge of the cot and pulled up his trousers, ignoring any protests that his body gave. On his way out, he picked up his long abandoned jacket from the floor, carelessly buckling the clasps that Cora had so tenderly undone hours before.

Grabbing his spyglass, he ran from the cabin more quickly than he should have (his knees were still weak) and joined Cora at the prow. She was holding a blackened rose: the same flower that Regina had laid in her tomb years ago.

Killian’s reminder of his mission was much less fleeting: the absence of his hand was something that he couldn’t put away for safekeeping.

“There it is.”

“Storybrooke.”


	3. The Recovery of a Madman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson lays down to sleep, and remembers the Queen of Heart's abuse during his time in Wonderland as the Mad Hatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter includes explicit rape. If this is something you’re uncomfortable with, you’re advised to skip this chapter.

Everything was falling into place for Jefferson. He was still in Storybrooke, but so was everyone else. He was still living on the outskirts of the city in the house that Regina had made for him, but he wasn’t alone: he had Grace, and they were happy. 

For twenty-eight years he had watched her. For twenty-eight years she had remained the same. For twenty-eight years he was wracked with agonizing regret, his every breath and every heartbeat pushing him closer and closer to a claustrophobic insanity that the Mad Hatter was uncomfortably familiar with. 

But the Mad Hatter was dead. 

Jefferson remained.

The curse had been broken, and he and Grace had been reunited. They were a family again.

At first he’d been worried that Grace would hate him for leaving her all those years ago. She had seemed happy enough in the family that Regina had given her. Would she still need him? When he’d voiced those concerns as he sat with his daughter and her surrogate parents, for Grace had of course invited him to dinner after their reunion, his daughter’s Storybrooke mother had shaken her head. 

“Maybe for those who had truly wronged the Evil Queen, things here sometimes changed.” Sighing, she looked to her husband. “For the rest of us, it was just like a very, very long day.”

They were still on good terms of course, but everyone was still recovering from the curse being broken. Grace’s surrogate parents had their own family to find: their own lost children. 

Grace had moved into his home, and been thoroughly impressed. For over a week, they’d gone unbothered. The new sheriff hadn’t come calling. The reason was obvious: as far as he knew, Emma and Snow White were still missing. The “Mad Hatter” was the least of Prince Charming’s problems.

Finally, things were looking up.

For the ninth day in a row, he tucked Grace into bed. She was eleven, and perhaps too old for such things, but they were both willing to make up for the time that they’d lost.

More blissful than he’d perhaps ever been, Jefferson went to his own bedroom, two doors down. Tired after a long day of walking through the forest with Grace, showing her his maps and watching her face light up, he was eager for rest.

Changing into his pajamas, he buttoned his shirt up to the throat. Even in his sleep, his throat wasn’t’ something that he liked to have exposed.

Getting into bed and under silk sheets, he closed his eyes. Since he’d found Grace, no nightmares had troubled him: what a difference from the last twenty-eight years. What _relief_.

As he slipped out of the waking world, however, _his_ voice began to jump around Jefferson’s skull.

The Mad Hatter.

 

xxx

 

“I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then!” 

Years, years, years he’s been here. Yesterday was weeks ago. Years, or days? Days, or no time at all? He can’t tell: there’s no way out. There’s no way out. _There’s no way out_.

Furiously shoving a needle through a piece of felt, the Mad Hatter worked tirelessly to complete another hat for _Her Majesty_. His mind was a fever, his thoughts fragmented and his heart pitter-pattering with the irregularity of rain. 

Except, there wasn’t any rain: it didn’t seem to rain in Wonderland. Not at his window. Time dragged on and on, unchanging and unstopping. Years, months, weeks, hours, days!

He paused only when he felt something wet rolling down his wrist. Mouth opening in a dry shriek, he looked down to see that the needle had impaled his palm. For a moment, he was absolutely still. He didn’t move, he couldn’t: red was _her_ color.

But the hats! Springing up, he flung away the bowler he’d been working on and pressed his bleeding palm to his chest, the needle, tinted with his blood, falling to the floor with a soft _ping_.

No blood could get on the hats: blood was red, and red was _her_ color, and the queen’s magic was too _heavy_ for hat tricks.                                        

It hadn’t taken long for Jefferson to fall into madness: the anguish of abandoning his daughter had set his madness into motion; from there it had only escalated.

But he was _bleeding_.  That was no good. Hands shaking and hair wild and tangled from a lack of care, he made his way to the window. He could see freedom, but the window, he knew, would not break. He’d tried.

When a royal guard came to check on him hours later, he was unmoved, still standing hunched over with his hand at his chest.

“Alright, hatter.” The guard said gruffly, approaching the strange man who had seemed to walk into Wonderland from nowhere at all. “The queen will see you now.”

“I’ll take my tea with Alice.” He chattered. “Alice is late.” He turned his face to the guard, eyes wide with a lunacy that all around him prayed would soon pass. For a brief instant, sadness passed through his gaze, but in another moment it was gone again. “Alice is very late indeed.”

“Come on.” The guard grabbed the other man’s elbow and began to lead him out of the room. The hatter followed him willingly until they reached the doorframe. There, his heels dug into the ground and he refused to budge. “ _Move_.” The guard growled, impatient. No one liked taking the Mad Hatter to the Queen of Hearts: it was a difficult task reserved for only the less popular of those working under Her Majesty.

Remaining silent, Jefferson’s gaze was on the door, though he didn’t acknowledge it. All that he knew, in his crazed state, was that bad things always happened when the guards came. His hats, for as senseless as they made him, kept him safe. They kept him alive, though in his better moments he thought that perhaps it would have been better to die.

“Move!” Exasperation on his face, the guard pulled hard on Jefferson’s arm. “You wouldn’t want to keep Her Majesty waiting, would you?”

Something in the hatter clicked, and for a split second he saw reason. Unblinking, hands shaking, he exited the chamber and stepped into the hallway. Feeling detached and listless without the mountains of hats that usually surrounded him, he kept his gaze on the floor and let the guard pull him along.

He went through the second doorway more easily when the guard pulled him forward. For a moment, he forgot the danger that lay in store for him.

“Failure doesn’t sit well with me, hatter.” Her voice was deep and dangerous. That wasn’t unusual, but it still made him cower. “Do you know how long you’ve been trying, and _failing_ , to please me? How long I’ve been merciful?”

He could only shake his head, eyes open and facing his feet. He couldn’t look at her. _Don’t look into the eyes of the devil. Don’t look._

“Answer me!” Her voice dropped even lower, and he flinched. He knew the pain that could accompany that voice, and he feared it.

“I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then!”  Certain phrases had been repeating in his head for days. Weeks. Months. Years? They were often the only things that he could conjure up to say, especially when faced with the thing that terrified him most. Her Majesty.

“Don’t play games with me.”

He was on the floor in the next instant, and he felt the tip of her shoe against his chin. It forced him to look up.

“No games here.” He whispered. There was no part of his gaze that wasn’t consumed by madness. “No games at all. Not here. Not anymore.” He made no move to get up, frozen on the ground before her. 

“Mad man.” She scoffed, pulling her foot back for a moment before moving it forward again, kicking him swiftly in the jaw. He tasted blood. “Mad _Hatter_.”

“That’s my name!” He laughed, though there were tears in eyes and blood in his mouth. “That’s what they call me!”

“No matter how many times I call you here, “ She seemed to have chosen to ignore her prisoner’s insanity, at least for the moment. “you never learn your lesson. Even _children_ are more intelligent than you. Even your _daughter_ must be.”

Jefferson started to tremble in earnest, distant, blurry pictures of a pretty little girl flitting past his vision.

“Please. _Please.”_ That was all that he could say. He didn’t even know what he wanted anymore: just that the Evil Queen could give it, but refused to.

When he had entered the room, her face had been covered. The guards were gone. They were alone. With no one else to see her, she had removed her mask, and her face was bared to him.

“Yes. That’s right.” Slowly, Cora stepped out of her ruby red shoes and knelt down next to Jefferson, her touch gentle as she turned his bloody chin toward her. Gently, too gently to be anything but terrifying, she pressed their lips together. They had been red before, and now they shined with blood. “That’s right.”

The room was small and narrow. It was the smaller of Her Majesty’s two throne rooms: the one reserved for more private consultations.

“ _Beg me.”_ She growled, standing and walking proudly to her throne. Their eyes locked together, hers narrowed and his wide, and she began to raise her skirts. 

“Please.” He whispered again, his voice suddenly dry and less high-pitched. In his crazed state, routine was the only thing that kept him balanced. This, the queen’s skirts and knees, was as regular to him as his hats. On his knees, he crawled toward her. If he could please her, then perhaps he could reach redemption. 

As he came within a few feet of her, she held out her foot to stop him, her toes against his forehead.

“Not yet.” Drawing a handkerchief from her bodice, she tossed it to him.

Though he understood little, the Mad Hatter understood what he was meant to do. Hurriedly picking it up, he wiped it over his mouth and chin. Soon enough the blood was very nearly gone, though his lip was still swollen where he had bitten it when Cora had kicked him.

A small wave of her hand, and what little blood remained had vanished. Only when Her Majesty inclined her head in a small nod did he continue his approach. His mouth was open: watering.

Slowly, she continued to hike up her skirts, though the rest of her undergarments covered her and kept her modest.

Reaching out shaking hands, Jefferson slowly hooked his fingers in what still covered her, and pulled down. He was almost immediately met with a nest of dark curls.

The last of her undergarments fell to the floor, and he stared between her legs. He could already see and smell dampness there: evidently her earlier aggression had not gone unrewarded between her thighs.

“Well?” She whispered. “Are you going to beg me or not?” 

“Your Majesty.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to her feet. “Your Majesty. _Please_.”

“Very well.” She sighed, as if she was rewarding him and not punishing him, not pushing him further to the brink of an insanity that he could _never_ truly come down from.

Lips still parted, he leaned in and put his mouth over the warm, wet heat between her legs, tasting her and taking her in. After a few moments, he seemed to realize what was happening and his attitude turned from caution to hunger.

He eagerly moved his mouth over her folds, shoving his tongue between them and taking in the wetness there. A deep, throaty groan above him reminded him of the pain that would come from displeasing her, and he moved his mouth to the ball of nerves above her labia.

“ _Good.”_

Sucking hard, he pushed his tongue desperately against her clitoris, and felt her push down on him. A hand reached down to grip his hair, and she began to rut down against his mouth.

Jefferson couldn’t breath. Her heat, her scent, engulfed him. He didn’t care. Being suffocated by the Queen of Hearts was no worse than being choked by his own growing madness. 

He could feel her wetness against his chin, and knew that if he pulled away it would glisten there.

All too soon her movements against him became stronger and more erratic, and her thighs were crushing the sides of his head as he felt her tense and then relax in spasms, slowly finishing until she lay back in her throne, legs still spread.

He looked up fearfully at her, his chin and mouth slick and wet. “Your Majesty?”

“Get down.” She growled, her voice still low with arousal. The Queen of Hearts _always_ got what she desired. Pain was no exception, and neither was pleasure. She held out her hand, and Jefferson found himself flat on his back. Her fingers curled and she pulled down, and so his trousers were ripped from him. He was flaccid, his lack of arousal evident and limp between his legs. “ _What_ is _that_?” 

Face heated, still tasting her, he swallowed and looked to the side.

“Are you that pathetic, so much of a weakling that pleasuring _The Queen of Hearts_ cannot arouse you?” She growled. “Is that brat even yours? Could you raise yourself even once, or are you incapable of fathering a child?”

“There’s no way out. _There’s no way out_.” He whimpered, tears running down his cheeks. 

“You’re pathetic.” She reached down between her legs to slick her hand, and then grabbed him, jerking him to a forced arousal. It was minutes before he was hard, but for every moment that went by he felt another part of himself die. 

She mounted him, and consumed him. Jefferson felt her heat devour his involuntary hardness, and let out a ragged sob. “Please…”

They didn’t speak: they only breathed. Cora’s breaths were deep and quick, occasionally accompanied by deep groans and gasps. Her hand moved down to rub herself, and Jefferson continued to cry.

His own breaths were ragged and broken. Sometimes he stopped crying. Sometimes he forgot that he was there at all. When Cora called him away from his hats and took his body, his mind often escaped it. It was easier to watch from a distance: to pretend that he wasn’t there.

Eventually, she pushed down hard against him, taking both his arousal and his will inside of her, and he felt her begin to convulse again. She tightened and relaxed around him, and he turned his head to the side so that he could look at the wall instead of the ceiling.

He’d once heard that a change of scenery could relieve stress.

A breathless smile on her face, she looked down at Jefferson. 

“You haven’t come yet.” Her voice is still throaty and full. “You don’t deserve it, but I will show you mercy.” 

Though her orgasm was done, she was still wet, and easily continued to ride him.

With all of the free will that he had left, Jefferson resisted his own release. Unfortunately for the Mad Hatter, the Queen of Hearts refused to be denied.

Choking from the force of his resistance, Jefferson came quickly. His orgasm was unsatisfying and unwanted. He couldn’t even move his hips: her force kept him down. Finished with him, she dismounted and stood, her skirts falling to her feet as if they’d never been up to her waist.

“Go.” 

Violated and shamed, Jefferson walked by himself back to his hats, his trousers in tatters and his spirit faring no better.

  

xxx

 

Jefferson didn’t dream: he remembered. His nightmares had been real once.

Hours after laying his head down to sleep, he woke up in a cold sweat with tears on his cheeks: a silent scream on his mouth and his eyes wide with shock and fear. 

In a moment, the expression of the Mad Hatter deserted him and he was left shaking and afraid. His lip was throbbing: evidently Cora’s kick in his memory had triggered his reaction a second time. There was blood, some wet and some dried, on his lips and chin. 

Sometimes, the anxiety from his nightmares—his memories—left him quickly and he was able to spend his time as if he’d never woken up in a cold sweat. On other occasions, a lingering fear stayed with him throughout the day, but he was able to overcome it. 

Cora’s presence only haunted him in dreams. In the waking world, he was usually able to suppress thoughts of his time as the Mad Hatter.

This time, nothing changed: he was just as afraid as he’d been in Wonderland. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“She’s here.” He whispered, raising a hand to the buttoned collar that covered his neck. A final tear rolled down his cheek, and he bit down on his already swollen lip.

Nothing could save him now.

For a moment, all he thought of was himself. What would he do if she found him? _What would he do if she found him_?

In the next instant, he was tumbling out of bed and to the door. _Grace_.

Wiping his mouth of blood, he flung the door open and ran down to her bedroom. She’d been so pleased with it: it was enormous, and bright, and filled with everything that she could ever want. He needed her to be happy.

His whole body was wracked with relief when he saw her sleeping. In the next few moments, he calmed down.

Cora couldn’t be in Storybrooke: his hat was destroyed. Charming had showed it to him. Taking away Emma and Snow had been its final act.

On his way back to his bedroom, he nearly began to panic again at a vase of roses in the hallway. Red roses. _Her_ flower. _Her_ color. Then, he remembered how much Grace had liked them. His love for his daughter had been more than his fear of _Her Majesty_ and he had bought them for her.

Cora couldn’t be in Storybrooke. That was impossible.

The Queen of Hearts was only a memory.

 


	4. Welcome to Storybrooke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora and Hook move in.

“And where are you running off to, Killian?” 

“I’m afraid that our deal is done, my dear Cora.”

“You really think it’s that simple?” Cora raised an eyebrow. “…that you can run off and take Rumplestiltskin’s head?”

“You said so yourself that that there isn’t magic here.” 

Raising an eyebrow, Cora waved her hand and Hook was raised into the air.

“And I was wrong.” She let him down again. “If Rumplestiltskin has his magic back, then you can’t simply go running after him.”

Lips pursed, Hook nodded stiffly. “And pray tell, what did you have in mind?”

“Before I tell you my plan, we need a place to stay.” 

“We have my ship.” Hook pointed out, pointing to the vessel with a frown. 

“That may be fit for a pirate.” Cora scoffed. “I am a _queen_.”

“You can’t be serious.” He groaned, running his fingers through his hair and letting out a long sigh. “Well you can go rent out an entire inn if that’s what suits you. I’ll stay on my ship.” 

“Don’t be foolish. Splitting up has caused more defeats than victories.” Cora paused, and looked over her shoulder. “…speaking of your ship.”

“Yes?” Hook frowned. 

Cora reached out, and the vessel appeared to vanish.

“What did you do to my ship!” Hook started to run to the dog, but Cora stopped him.

“It’s still there, but hidden. Now come with me.” 

“Where are we going?” He asked, still looking self-assured despite the sudden change in plans. 

“Everyone who has ever wronged my daughter will be here, in this place.” A smirk slowly spread across Cora’s face. “…I think that it’s in our best interest to pay an old friend of mine a visit.”

“Friend?” Hook asked, tone verging on the edge of skepticism.

“I use the word loosely.” She offered her arm, and hook took it. “Come.” In the dark, early hours of the morning, they began to make their way into Storybrooke.

 

xxx

  

As Jefferson settled back down to sleep, the clock read 3:23. It would be another few hours until he got up for good. Taking a deep breath, he lay back and tried to will himself back to sleep.

For the first few minutes, he was able to start relaxing.

The clock read 3:26 when he heard footsteps. 

Eyes snapping open, Jefferson got out of bed again. This time, he was quiet. Opening his nightstand, he grabbed the gun that he kept there and slowly made his way out of his room and down the hall. When he lived alone, he might have risked death or injury.

Now that his daughter was with him again, he had something to protect. There was little else he would die for. He paused at her room for a moment, and then continued on. There was no need to scare her: he was going to keep her safe.

Whoever was in his house wasn’t trying to be careful. Jefferson could hear voices, though they were still muffled. Whispers. It sounded like they hadn’t strayed far from the front door. 

Slowly and carefully, he made his way down the stairs, eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on the firearm. It was probably Regina: there seemed to be no end to the requests that the Evil Queen had for him. At the same time, he could hear two voices: Regina wasn’t alone.

Regina had _no right_ to be in his house. They were in Storybrooke, not Fairytaleland. There was no reason why she couldn’t call him, or send him an email.

“Jefferson! Don’t keep us waiting.”

For an instant, his blood ran cold. It was a woman, but it wasn’t Regina. It was a queen, but not the one he’d been expecting.

 _Cora_.

The gun felt from his hand, not making much of a sound on the plush carpet that covered the staircase. No. This had to be a nightmare. One hand moving to his throat, he took a few slow steps, meeting the bottom of the stairs. He could see movement just around the corner, and he knew it was her.

“What did you drop? Are you really so clumsy?” She entered the hall, and Jefferson’s throat tightened. For a few seconds, he couldn’t breathe. 

“You can’t be here.” His voice was anything but steady. “You can’t be.”

“But I am.” She looked around. “…I must say, I do approve of your home. Yet…it seems so large. So empty.” Eyes narrowing dangerously, she stared her hatter down. “Too much so for one person. Is your daughter asleep?”

“Yes.” He answered quickly, hands clammy. “Please don’t hurt her.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it! Certainly I more than most know what a gift children are.” Her red lips curled into a smirk. “….as long as you obey me, I won’t harm a single hair on her head.”

“And what are your terms?” Jefferson asked, suddenly feeling old and tired. He knew that he would follow her without question: he had no choice. Anything to protect his Grace. 

“I will stay in your home, and you will tell no one that I am here.” She looked to her left, and Jefferson realized that she wasn’t alone. A man stood next to her, posed confidently with one hand on his hip. His other hand was no hand at all: a dangerously curved piece of metal attached to his wrist instead. Captain Hook. 

“Is that all?” Jefferson asked, his tone abrupt.

“You will provide for us. Make sure we’re comfortable.”

“Can I eat this?” Hook asked in the background, spearing an apple on his hook and taking a bite out of it. 

All that Jefferson could do was give a short nod, one hand still at his neck. If he thought hard enough about it, he could still remember exactly what losing his head had been like.

Seeming to pay Jefferson little attention, Hook took a large bite from the apple, the crunch sounding like a gunshot to the other man’s ears.

“Excellent. In that case, I’ll be moving in.”

“When?” Jefferson managed to get out, surprised that he could even muster up enough strength to speak.

“Immediately.” Titling her head toward Hook, Cora raised her eyebrows. “I trust that you’ll help me move my things, Killian?” 

“If you say so.” Hook frowned slightly and took another bite of the apple, looking as if he was quite done with obeying Cora’s orders.

“Good. As for you, I expect your finest bedchamber to be ready for us when we return.” 

For a moment Jefferson opened his mouth, looking uneasy as he glanced at Hook. Did the pirate need a bedroom as well?

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, I’ll be sleeping on my ship.” The captain pulled the apple from his hook and dropped it back into the bowl he’d taken it from. Licking his lips, he looked to Cora. 

“With _all due_ _respect_ , Hook, that makes absolutely no sense. I can’t use my magic to shield you from the other side of the city, and Snow White and her brood are sure to see you walking on and off of an _invisible boat_.” Cora said matter-of-factly, examining her fingernails. 

“Ship.” Hook corrected, his tone sharp. “My invisible _ship_.” He paused for a tense moment, and then looked comfortable again. “Fine. I’d rather draw my attention to this hovel than my ship, anyway.”

“Excellent.” Cora offered her arm to Hook. “Then let’s go.” They vanished in a cloud of blue smoke, and Jefferson was left on his own. Shaking from head to toe, he walked over to where Hook had been standing and picked up the half-eaten apple that the pirate hadn’t finished.

Scarcely able to feel—his emotions and his body seemed completely detached from one another—he made his way to the kitchen and threw the half-eaten fruit away. His feet seeming to move of their own accord, he returned to the staircase, knowing only that if he didn’t please the queen, Grace would suffer.

His chest tightened. Grace. How would he explain this to her? He should send her away. She could be safe. Drawing in a deep breath, he wiped his eyes and paused in front of his daughter’s bedroom door. Cora wouldn’t let him send Grace away. It would be too suspicious, and it would make her hatter less controllable.

There was no way around it. The Queen of Hearts was going to rise again.

 

xxx

 

They were back on the ship. Hook turned to Cora, a heavy frown on his face.

“I would have preferred to stay here, you know.” 

“Of course I know that.” Cora laughed and casually flicked her wrist, snapping her trunk shut. “I didn’t make that decision with you in mind.”

“I _do_ have my own agenda, Cora—“ 

“We’ve already discussed it.” Cora’s hand was on the back of his neck in an instant, her voice low and dangerous. “I know best, Killian. Truly I do.”

Letting out a low growl, Captain Hook clenched his fist. “I need my vengeance, Cora.”

“I know, Killian.” Slowly, her hand moved down from his neck. It paused at his lower back, and then continued down to a firmer target. “There’s a lot of pressure on you right now.” She squeezed, and he tensed. “…but I’d be happy to relieve it for you.”

Letting out a frustrated groan, Hook moved away from her and began tossing a few things into a leather rucksack. “I don’t have _time_ for this, Cora.”

“If that’s really how you feel.” Looking amused, Cora stood next to her trunk and watched the pirate. “Are you ready?”

“I suppose.” He breathed out, cheeks slightly flushed. “That man…”

“Jefferson?” Cora asked, idly adjusting her sleeves. “What about him?”

“He looked familiar.”

“He was my hatter back in Wonderland.” Cora explained. “I doubt you crossed paths, but perhaps you caught a glance of him.”

“Perhaps.” Killian echoed, looking distracted as he put a hand on Cora’s familiar wrist.

They were inside Jefferson’s enormous house in the next moment. For only two occupants, it really was ridiculously large. There was plenty of room for a queen and her captain.

Jefferson was waiting for them inside. He was seated on a wooden chair just inside the door, his hands folded tightly in his lap. “You’re back.”

“That’s right.” Smiling sweetly, Cora gave her trunk a small nudge toward the man seated in front of her. “Are you going to show me to my room?”

Nodding stiffly, Jefferson rose to his feet and walked to Cora, lifting her trunk with some effort. “Follow me.” He whispered, making his way toward the staircase.

“Very well.” Cora agreed, walking behind him with Hook in her wake. “Where is your daughter?” She asked as she began to climb the staircase. 

“She’s sleeping downstairs.” Jefferson explained, his voice nearly devoid of emotion. “Her bedroom is upstairs, but I told her that we have surprise guests who don’t sleep very well. She believed me, though I don’t know why.”

“Good.” Cora exchanged a quick glance with Hook. “A queen’s slumber should never be disturbed.” Her attention back on Jefferson, she frowned. “So where _are_ my chambers?”

“Your room is here.” Jefferson explained, weakly opening the door to what had formerly been his bedroom.  Cora walked in, beginning to look around. “It’s the biggest one here.”

“Well, it’s certainly not fit for a queen…but I’m not exactly in my kingdom. This will have to do.” Cora nodded and turned to the two men standing in the door. “Don’t just stand there. Give me some privacy.”

Suddenly looking afraid, Jefferson nodded and closed the door. Looking much more sure of himself, he turned to Hook. “That’s your room there.” He gestured to the room across the hall.

“You look different.” Hook didn’t seem to have heard Jefferson.

“What do you mean?” Jefferson asked, looking confused as het met Hook’s gaze. “I don’t believe we’ve met

“We haven’t met, but I’ve seen you.” Smirk positively feral, Hook took a wide step forward. Jefferson accommodated by moving backward down the hall, looking considerably more nervous than he had a moment ago. “…do you really not remember? I know that you saw me, too.”

“I’m afraid that I don’t remember my time in Wonderland very well.” Jefferson said curtly, taking another step backwards. Turning to the side, he gripped the doorknob to Hook’s room and pulled. “Here.”

“You really don’t remember.” Eyes narrowing slightly, Hook took a step into the room. “I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He smirked, eyebrows raising slightly. “I suppose all I can do is thank you and your daughter for your hospitality.” 

Entire demeanor changing in an instant, Jefferson grabbed the front of Hook’s shirt, forcing the pirate to face him.

“Listen carefully, because I don’t want to repeat myself.” He hissed. “If you harm a single hair on her head, I _will_ kill you. She’s my everything. Without her, I have _nothing_ left to lose.”

“Slow down, Jefferson.” Hook laughed, though not loudly enough to bother the queen down the hall. “I’m not going to hurt her. It’s Cora that you have worry about.”

“Why do you call her that?” Jefferson whispered, a manic glint in his eye. 

“That’s her name.”

“Her name is _Your Majesty_.” Jefferson let go of Hook and stepped backwards. “And if you knew what she was capable of, you’d stay on your boat.” Turning away, he retreated down the hall. 

Hook raised an eyebrow, and then closed the door.

Jaw clenched, Jefferson made his way downstairs to the one bedroom on the first floor. That was where he’d settled Grace down for the night, and it was where they would _both_ be sleeping until Cora was gone…if she ever left.

He wasn’t going to leave his daughter unprotected.

“Are you still awake?” He murmured, shutting the door and making his way to the bed.

“Yes.” She replied, sitting up slightly and looking at her father. Concern was clear on her face. “Why can’t I sleep in my room?” 

“One of our guests is a little sensitive. If we slept upstairs, we might bother her. We have to be kind to her.”

“I understand.” Grace smiled. “But why are you sleeping here, too?” 

“I’m letting her sleep in my room.” Jefferson explained, unrolling a sleeping bag on the ground next to the bed. “Besides, this will be fun, won’t it?”

“It reminds me of before.” She said fondly, relaxing on the bed and smiling at her father. “In our old house, when there was only one room. Remember?”

“Yes.” Jefferson nodded, a small smile on his face. “Do you ever miss that life, Grace?”

“I missed _you_ , Papa.” Grace said firmly, pulling the blankets up to her chin. “I don’t care where we live.”

“I feel the same way.” Making himself comfortable, Jefferson relaxed as best he could. It was only five in the morning: not quite late enough to get up, but too early to fall asleep. Grace was a child. She was well able to sleep in.

Jefferson had a harder time staying asleep, but he wanted to avoid Cora and protect Grace as well as he could. That meant staying next to his daughter. He didn’t know exactly what Cora had planned, but could only hope that she would spend most of her time away from his house. 

If she hurt Grace, he didn’t know what he would do. She was his world, and Cora knew it. She was going to use that against him. The pirate might, too. 

The pirate who knew him somehow. Frowning up at the ceiling, he closed his eyes. It was entirely possibly that they’d met in Wonderland. He didn’t remember most of his time as the Mad Hatter. He wished that he could remember the pirate. Having a complete stranger in his house, the house where his daughter lived, made him uncomfortable.

He’d seemed less patient than Cora. It had seemed like he was more eager to spend time in his ship than in Jefferson’s home. Hopefully, that was indeed the case.

Jefferson took a moment to listen, and was relieved to hear that Grace’s breathing had evened out. She was asleep.

As much as he wanted to stay awake to better protect Grace, he realized that he needed to sleep as well. Maybe all of this was a dream. Maybe the Queen of Hearts had never come to Storybrooke.

For a split second, he wanted to cry. It hadn’t been a dream, or even a nightmare. This was real, and he knew it. Drawing in a deep breath, he turned onto his side so that he was facing the door. At the very least, he could protect his Grace.

 

xxx

 

Upstairs. Hook had stripped down to his leggings. The room that the hatter had provided was strange. The fabrics were unfamiliar, and he couldn’t find any lamps. Not that it mattered. As soon as possible, he would be returning to his ship.

He had a few hours until then. Approaching Cora had occurred to him, but the queen had seemed like she wanted to be left alone. Killian knew better than to disturb her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he scowled.

At least he was finally alone. Leaning back, he closed his eyes. For the first time in a  day, Cora wasn’t hovering next to him. Or _behind_ him. A shiver went down his spine, and he remembered in painstaking detail what had happened on his ship.

_“Listen to me, Killian Jones. Let me make myself abundantly clear. This isn’t about your pleasure. It’s about mine.”_

His hand moved between his legs, squeezing hard.

_“Don’t you have anything to say to me, Captain?”_

He was still sore. The pain between his legs was unfamiliar. He’d never been penetrated before. Thinking about it made his face flush red. He’d never felt so humiliated, or so…

There wasn’t even a word for it. Shaking his head, he stood and pushed his pants down, catching a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror next to the room’s wardrobe.

There were purple bruises on his hips were he’d been bent over the railing. One of his nipples was still slightly red. Reaching behind himself, he pressed a hand against his backside where Cora had hit him.

That still hurt, too.

Not wanting to dwell on what Cora had done to him (or maybe he _did_ want to dwell on it, and that was the problem) he got back into bed. The sheets were cool against his skin, but he was unsure whether or not he could sleep without the gentle rocking of his ship underneath him. 

Likewise, he found that it was hard to think of women and not remember Cora’s magic moving behind him. 

Perhaps he’d let her relieve some of his pressure after all.


	5. Make Yourself at Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora goes to find Regina, and Hook makes himself comfortable.

_Wonderland - Pre-curse_

 

“You’re now going to tell me _everything_ , and do exactly what I want. Because when you hold a heart, you control it.” Cora whispered, her hand deep in Hook’s chest. She squeezed, and he cried out.

He had told her everything. From the first time he’d seen her, he’d known there was a possibility that he would betray Regina in favor of her mother. Regina was formidable, true, but she had come from the _mother_ of all evil. She had come from Cora.

Once he’d told Cora what he knew, what Regina wanted, she finally released him. “Come with me.”

“Pardon my asking, but why should I follow _you_? You don’t know where the hat is. I do.”

“Foolish boy.” She scoffed, eyes narrowing. “I need to pack.”

“You?...fine.” Hook sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Perhaps he should have expected as much.

“Don’t slouch. You’re in the presence of a queen.” Cora turned and walked away from her throne. Hook could only follow. It was startling just how unimpressive Regina was compared to her mother. 

He wondered if Cora would be disappointed if she knew. 

“Where are we going?” He asked, eyebrows raised as he looked around. Cora had led him into the palace.

“You’ll see.” She said simply. “Before I gather my things, I need to thank the man responsible for bringing you here.”

“You mean _me_?” 

“No, not you.” Cora stopped at a bolted door. “Neither you nor my daughter could have come to Wonderland without the hat.” She delicately put her hand on the latch and looked back at Hook. “And who do you think made it?”

“A hatter?” He guessed, eager to get out of Wonderland. He wasn’t terribly fond of it: there was too much color. Too many of the flowers could sing. It was no place for a pirate. 

“Not just any hatter.” Cora smiled, and for a moment Hook felt a rare emotion: fear. “A mad one.” She pulled the latch aside and opened the door.

There was a laugh, and then a clatter. 

“My dear, dear hatter.” Cora’s voice dripped with something bittersweet, and Hook felt himself shiver. “I have something very important to tell you.” She entered the room, and Hook moved to the door.

“Your M-majesty.”

The pirate’s eyebrows shot up. He’d never seen such a room before. It was enormous, and filled to the brim with hats. There were thousands of them, stacked up to the ceiling. He was surprised that there was room enough to see the man responsible for making them.

His hair was frayed and wild, and his clothing looked patched and worn. He was shaking, his gaze locked on Cora’s feet. She approached, and the Mad Hatter fell to his knees, kissing her shoes.

“Y-your majesty.” He repeated, his hands planted on the floor.

“I’ve found it.” Her voice was still disturbingly kind. When the hatter didn’t respond, she continued. “Your hat.”

“M-my…my…” His head jerked up slightly as if to look at her, but he seemed unable to raise his head to meet her gaze. Too frightened.

“That’s right.” 

“I…does that mean…” In an instant, the hatter seemed to change. He stopped shaking. Finally he found the strength to look up, and his eyes were wide.

Even from a distance, Hook could see that he had the gaze of a mad man. 

“Can I go home?” He whispered with all the hope of a child. “Please.” 

“Go home?” Cora laughed. “You’ve rendered me no services, Jefferson. I asked you to make me a hat that could take me home, and you failed.”                                                                                                                                

“No! Please!” Jefferson—it seemed the hatter had a name—begged. “Please! Please, I’ll do anything for you, your majesty! Anything!” Fervently kissing her shoes, his body began to shake again. He was sobbing. “My Grace! My _Grace!_ ”

“You’re never going home.” She crooned. “…and there’s nothing you can do for me now.” She knelt, and cupped his face in a surprisingly gentle gesture, raising his chin. “You’ve been replaced.”

“No.” He whimpered, trembling. “No.” 

“Yes.” She pressed her lips to his forehead. She stood, and he grabbed her ankle.

“No!”

The queen’s attitude changed instantly. Scowling, she kicked him with her free foot. He cried out, and released her.

“You don’t realize how merciful I’m being, hatter. You’re no longer of use to me. I should kill you.”

He looked up hopefully. “Please.” The hatter whispered, blood running down his face from where she’d struck him.

“You’re weak.” She scoffed, turning and walking back toward Hook.

“No! Please!” He crawled after her, getting to his feet once she reached the door. “You can’t do this! You can’t!”

“I think you’ll find that I can.” She met his gaze for a split second before closing the door and bolting it.

“No! No! There’s no more time, there’s no more time! Let me go! LET ME GO!”

The hatter was pounding at the door. The captain could hear him crying. He’d never seen anything so pathetic. 

“ _That_ man made the hat?” Hook asked. He knew why she’d let him watch: she’d wanted him to see what she could do to a man who had, Hook assumed, at one point been sane.

“A long time ago. He’s not capable of it anymore.” Cora explained. “Follow me. I’ll gather my things, and then you will take me to my daughter.”

“Of course, _Your Majesty_.” He laughed, following the Queen of Hearts away from her hatter’s chamber.

 

xxx

  _Storybrooke - Present Day_

 

Explaining to Cora how to use electricity (and the toilet) had been difficult. Cora didn’t enjoy being in a position of ignorance, and Jefferson hadn’t enjoyed being in a position that could make the queen angry. Thankfully, she was remarkably intelligent and quick to learn.

Once she’d bathed and dressed (if she had looked disheveled after her time on the ship, she certainly didn’t now) she was quick to in form Jefferson that she would be away for most of the day.

“You and your daughter aren’t to leave your property. You aren’t to contact anyone. If someone contacts you, tell them nothing. You aren’t to let anyone know that I’m here.”

“I understand.” His answers were still short, and he was still exceptionally tense when she was near. How could he not be? The abuse that she’d rendered him was hard to forget. Impossible, even. 

It was only once Cora had gone that Jefferson realized Hook remained. He’d gone to the kitchen to make Grace breakfast (it was Saturday, and she was still asleep) and there the pirate had been: pillaging his cupboards.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, slapping a box of instant rice from Hook’s hand. “You should be with Cora.” 

“It seems she doesn’t trust you enough to leave you alone, not that I can blame her.” Hook sneered. “That _temper_.” He arched an eyebrow. “I would have gone, but you of _all_ people should know what happens when someone some one says no to,” He paused, choosing his words. “ _Her Majesty_.” 

Jefferson visibly flinched. Those words. That name. “You don’t know anything about her. What she can do.”

“Of course I do. I know what she did to _you_. At least…what you became because of her.”

“What do you mean?” Jefferson growled. “Last night you said that we’d met. What did that mean?”

“I was there.” Hook stood his ground, his chin up. 

“Where?” Jefferson hissed. 

“For the queen’s departure. I’m assuming you remember when she left you in Wonderland to rot.”

“I don’t remember you.” Jefferson was clearly distressed. Remembering his madness wasn’t pleasant, and it certainly wasn’t healthy.

“I was, but you were too far gone to see me. You were far too gone to see anyone but her.” Hook paused and stared at the Jefferson, their gazes equally piercing. “…perhaps you’re on your way to madness again, Hatter. Is that’ what’s got your feathers so ruffled?”

“I don’t want you in my house.” Jefferson growled. “I don’t want you in my house, and I certainly don’t want you around my daughter.”

“I’m not going to hurt her.” Hook sounded honest enough, but he _was_ a pirate. “…as long as you cooperate.”

“That doesn’t mean that you have to be near her.” Jefferson retorted. 

“Don’t you think that she’ll think it strange if your new guests don’t dine with her?” Hook pointed out, raising his hook for emphasis. “I’d think you’d want to keep your happy little home as normal as possible.”

Taking a deep breath, Jefferson turned on the coffee maker. He was frustrated. No, it was more than that: he was terrified. Cornered. Trapped. This was exactly the life he’d hoped to escape.

“Remind me, what is this magic?” Hook asked idly, switching the light on and off. 

“Electricity.” Jefferson explained through gritted teeth. “It’s not magic. It’s science.” 

“Never heard of it.” Hook finally left the switch alone, and focused on the coffee maker. “What’s that?”

“I’m making coffee.”

“Coffee?” Hook echoed, eying the machine. “What exactly is it?” 

“It’s a…” Jefferson took a deep breath. Cora had the advantage of being someone Jefferson feared. Hook, more than anything else, annoyed him. “A hot drink. You can try some if you promise not to make a mess.”

“I can’t promise you anything, hatter.” Hook continued to rummage through the cabinets. “Rather, I don’t _have_ to. So I won’t.” 

“Stop touching my things!” Jefferson’s fists clenched. “If you need something, you can ask me!”

Hook paused, eyes narrowed as he looked over at Jefferson. “I’m hungry.”

“So I gathered.” Jefferson met Hook’s gaze with his head held high. “What would you like to eat?”

For a moment Hook looked surprised, and then he laughed. “Are you offering to cook for me? A common maid?”

“This is my house. I’d rather make you a meal than risk you soiling it.” Jefferson growled, snatching a box of instant brownie mix from Killian and shoving it back into the cabinet, closing it tightly. “Sit down. I’ll make us both something to eat.” 

“So I won’t be dining alone this fine morning. Fantastic.” Laughing, Hook sat down and propped his feet up on the table, watching Jefferson with amusement in his gaze.

“Feet off the table.” Jefferson tried not to sound as angry as he felt. 

“You’re not a very gracious host.” Hook observed, making a show of sighing dramatically and taking his feet from the table. “

“I’m not your host, I’m your hostage.” Jefferson wasn’t going to play games. He knew that he was little better than a prisoner in his own home.

“Cora’s hostage, maybe. I’m just along for the ride, so it seems.”

“Why _are_ you here?” Jefferson asked as he cracked eggs into a mixing bowl.

“To kill Rumplestiltskin.” Hook answered simply, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Good luck.” Jefferson scoffed, a laugh rising in his throat.

“I don’t _need_ luck.” Hook sneered. 

“Better men than you have tried.” Jefferson said idly as he turned on the burner. 

“ _Better_ men?” Openly laughing, Hook tilted his head back so that he could get a better look at Jefferson, who was at the stove. “Well in that case, I can see why they failed. Of course no man _better_ than me could slay him. No one _good_ ever could.”

“It’s nice to know that you have such a high opinion of yourself.” Jefferson rolled his eyes and turned off the burner, shoveling a hefty amount of bacon and eggs onto two plates. He set one down at each end of the table, and sat down across from Hook. “So you consider yourself a villain?”

“No, I consider myself a hero.” Hook poked at his food, examining it heartily before finally taking a small taste of it, evidently wary of being poisoned. “I’m going to kill the most dangerous and hated man that this world—and others, I suppose—has ever seen. But that doesn’t mean that I’m anyone’s knight in shining armor.” 

“No, you certainly are not.” Jefferson agreed, standing up again to pour the coffee. He set a mug in front of Hook and made himself comfortable in his own seat again, his stomach growling. He should have eaten earlier, but had been far too concerned with his new houseguests.

Hook eyed the mug with mild suspicion for a few moments before picking it up and taking a cautious sip. His face screwed up for just a moment, but he swallowed.

“Do you like it?” Jefferson asked, unsure what to make of Hook’s reaction to the drink.

“It’s strange. Bitter.” Hook took another sip, savoring it for a moment before swallowing and licking his lips. “But not…unpleasant. Is it common in this world?” 

“Yes.” Jefferson took a drink from his own mug before continuing to eat his breakfast. “You know, you might as well just go and try to hunt him down. I’m not going to leave. I care too much about my daughter’s safety to do that.”

“Be that as it may, from what I understand Storybrooke is a very small city.” Hook kept eating, apparently satisfied with his breakfast. “Cora has the benefit of being able to move around unseen—magic and all that—but I don’t. As much as it pains me to put off my plans for an extra day, even I can understand that laying low is important. I’ve waited this long, after all. What are a few more hours on top of that?”

“How surprisingly patient.” Jefferson looked across the table at the pirate, wondering if there was some other reason why he wasn’t in the city. Surely Hook, even without magic, could manage to stay hidden. There didn’t seem to be anything unusual about him. He didn’t look ill. Perhaps he was sitting somewhat stiffly, but that was no reason not to try and find Mr. Gold. “Mr. Gold.” He blurted out a moment later.

“Pardon me?” Hook raised an eyebrow, his fork halfway to his face.

“Mr. Gold. That’s what he’s called here.” Jefferson abruptly turned his head away. “I thought you might like to know.”

“Yes.” Hook said slowly, looking just the slightest bit confused about why Jefferson was helping him. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Grace is going to be up soon.” Jefferson added, putting his empty plate in the sink and starting to fill up a clean one with what was left of the bacon and eggs, wanting breakfast to be ready for his daughter. “It’s best if she doesn’t know what’s going on.” 

“I suppose that ignorance can be bliss.” Hook agreed. “Children aren’t very good at keeping secrets, anyway.”

“Good. As far as she knows, you and Cora are my guests. Nothing more, nothing less.” Pausing again, Jefferson let his gaze linger on Hook’s elaborate leather coat. “You should know that people don’t wear things like that here. If you want to blend in, you should invest in some of this world’s clothing.”

“Is what you’re wearing typical of this world?” Hook asked, finishing his coffee and holding out the mug to Jefferson. 

“I…” Jefferson took the mug from Hook so that he could refill it. “Not quite.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Hook took the full mug from Jefferson and indulged himself in a large gulp, not bothered by the high temperature. “I don’t care if I stand out. I just need to get into the city and to Rumplestiltskin. When I find him, it won’t matter what I’m wearing.”

“Fair enough.” Jefferson shrugged and refilled his own mug. He was certain that he looked as tired as he felt. It had been a long night, and he hadn’t gotten very much sleep. “I—”

“Papa!” What Jefferson had been going to say was cut off when his daughter walked into the room and sat down across from Hook. “You made breakfast!” 

“Of course.” Jefferson’s expression softened and he opened the fridge, getting out a bottle of orange juice and setting it on the table. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Yes.” Grace looked away from her father and focused on the other man in the room. “Are you one of our guests?”

“Yes I am, lovely.” Hook smiled and leaned his elbow on the table. “I’m Killian.” 

“I’m Grace.” She said kindly, her gaze going to Hook’s wrist. “Your hand! Are you—“ She abruptly looked to her father, clearly unsure whether or not their guest’s lack of a second hand was part of polite conversation.

“Am I what?” Hook asked, eyebrows up as he leaned forward. 

Jefferson gave a small nod, curious about what was on his daughter’s mind.

“Captain Hook.” She was staring in something akin to awe, one hand clapped over her mouth as if afraid she’d said something wrong.

“I…yes.” Surprised, Hook looked back at Grace, and then over at Jefferson, and then back at Grace again. “But how did you know that?”

“Peter Pan! Haven’t you—didn’t you know? You’re in a book in this world!” Grace gushed. “And a movie, I—“ Her brow furrowed. “Have you never read it?”

“I have not.” Hook tensed at the words Peter Pan, but met Grace’s gaze. “I would _love_ to see it.”

“I’ll go get it!” Standing up, Grace ran out of the room with her breakfast unfinished.

“I’m a _book_ in this world?” Hook stood and faced Jefferson. “What does that mean?”

“You’re _in_ a book.” Jefferson corrected Hook. “We all are. In this world, we’re the stuff of fairytales. Just stories—and they’re not very accurate.”

“And what story are you in?” Hook asked, glancing toward where Grace had exited the kitchen.

“Alice in Wonderland.” Jefferson explained, leaning back against the counter and adjusting his scarf.

“Wonderland.” Hook smirked. “Of course.”

“If you don’t want Grace to get suspicious, you need to pretend that you were cursed just like everyone else.” Jefferson added, his voice low so that his daughter wouldn’t hear him. “For twenty-eight years, we all lived like we belonged in this world—except for me, but that’s an entirely different story. When it broke, everyone remembered their true selves.”

“Interesting.” Hook stroked his chin. “And I do see your point, of course. I’ll play along for now. It’s easier than the alternative, I suppose.”

“I have it!” Grace rushed in a moment later, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Here!” She excitedly pressed the book into Hook’s hands before sitting back down to finish her breakfast.

“Very nice. Thank you.” Hook looked it over, looking torn between amusement and distaste. “I’ll look it over while I…unpack.” He stood and left the room. Jefferson visibly relaxed, and got out a cup so that he could pour Grace some juice.

“Who’s our other guest?” Grace asked excitedly. “Is she from Neverland, too?” She gasped. “Is she Wendy?”

“No.” Jefferson ruffled his daughter’s hair. “You’ll likely meet her soon enough.”

“Alright.” She briefly smiled up at him before continuing to eat her breakfast.

“Do you have homework?” Jefferson asked, sitting down next to her and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yes.” She frowned and sighed, poking at what was left of her eggs. “I’m going to do it after this so I don’t have to do it later.”

“That’s a good idea. Do you need any help?” Jefferson asked. 

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Besides, you have to entertain your guests, don’t you?” 

Jefferson started to frown, but stopped himself. “I suppose I do. In fact, do you mind if I go make sure that Killian,” The name sat strangely on his lips. “is finding everything?”

“I don’t mind.” She shook her head and walked over to the sink, rinsing off her plate. “I’ll do the dishes.”

“Thank you.” Jefferson smiled and left the kitchen, hurrying up the stairs and knocking on the door to the room Hook was staying in. No answer. He paused, and listened. He could hear movement, but it was coming from his room—the one where Cora was staying.

He pressed his ear to the door and rapped on it a few times. “Killian?” He heard a muffled answer and opened the door, his face screwing up. “ _What the hell are you doing_?”

 


	6. Getting Reacquainted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora returns, and calls Jefferson and Killian to her bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is some dubious consent in the second half of of this chapter.

 

“ _What the hell are you doing_?” Jefferson stared at Hook, who was nude down to his waist and zipping up what Jefferson recognized as one of his most expensive pairs of pants. 

“I thought I’d try _blending in_.” Hook stood and faced Jefferson, cocking an eyebrow. “We’re around the same size. What’s this fastening called, by the way? It’s certainly more efficient than lacing.” 

“It’s a _zipper—_ you didn’t think that it would be polite to ask me before trying on my clothes?” Jefferson asked, glancing down and seeing dark bruises along Hook’s hips and abdomen. Not even the dark hair leading into his trousers could hide that. There was bruising on his chest, too, right around the n—“You should have asked!”

“I’m so sorry.” Rolling his eyes, Hook shrugged on one of Jefferson’s shirts—dark purple with paisley print—and started to button it. “How do I look?”

“Nothing like a pirate.” Jefferson was itching to have those pants back. It was true that they were about the same size, but he knew that with Hook wearing them, they weren’t likely to come back intact. 

“That’s all the better if I’m trying to disguise myself.” Hook turned to look in the full-length mirror next to the closet. 

“They don’t suit you.” Jefferson cut in.

“I suppose not.” Hook agreed. “Too bright.”

“Purple is too bright?” Crossing his arms, Jefferson frowned slightly. He didn’t want Hook wearing his clothes, but he also didn’t want his wardrobe to be criticized by a _pirate_.

“Have you seen what I usually wear?” Hook asked, laughing softly and unbuttoning the shirt again. “I prefer black.” 

Jefferson moved forward for an instant, not wanting Hook to wrinkle the shirt. “I’ll pick you out something to wear if you stop touching my things.”

“You’ll pick out my clothes for me?” Hook laughed more openly, and tossed the shirt to Jefferson. “Alright, hatter. Play the part of a doting mother, I’d love to see it.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jefferson went to his closet and put the shirt back on a hanger where it belonged. “Yes, I will. As long as you _promise_ not to touch anything in this house without my permission.”

Hook sighed and crossed his arms. “I suppose I can _try_ to make that promise, Hatter.”

“Don’t call me that.” Jefferson said flatly. “It’s Jefferson. I’m not the hatter anymore.”

“Yes, but you are _a_ hatter. I saw your collection down the hall.” Hook looked over the bed, where Cora had slept the night before, and moved to sit down before thinking better of it.

“I’m just Jefferson now.” He pulled a dark blue shirt from his closet and tossed it at Hook’s chest.

“Ah, yes. That’s a much better color.” Hook said approvingly, pulling it on and buttoning it up over his chest.

“You can’t wear those pants either.” Jefferson pulled a pair of jeans from his dresser and tossed them at Hook. “Here.”

“Such strange fabric.” Hook pushed down the expensive dress pants he’d been wearing, and Jefferson looked away. Once they were on, he stood. “Comfortable enough.” He observed, squatting down to test how easily he could move in them. “A bit loose, though.” 

Jefferson tossed a belt at him, and Hook stood fully dressed a minute or so later. “Well? How do I look?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Normal.” Jefferson answered, closing his closet and his drawers. “Now come on. I don’t want Cora finding us here when she gets back.”

“Oh my but you _are_ afraid of her.” Hook chuckled, following Jefferson out into the hall.

All things considered, the afternoon passed quietly. Jefferson knew that housing the captain and the queen would cause problems sooner than later, but if even one day could pass uneventfully, he was grateful.

It was nine o’clock, and Cora still hadn’t returned. Jefferson was more than happy. That meant that Grace would likely be asleep by the time that the Queen of Hearts entered his house once again.

That didn’t mean that he wanted to leave Grace unprotected, and so even after putting her to bed, he’d stayed. A soft smile on his face, he lay in bed with an arm around his daughter, letting her read to him. 

She was growing up so fast. Too fast. Jefferson didn’t want to think about how soon she’d stop being a girl and become a woman. He wasn’t certain that he’d ever be ready. They’d already lost so much time. Part of him wished that they could stay like this forever.

Grace was finishing the chapter with there was a soft rap at the door. 

“H—Jefferson?” Came the captain’s drawl.

“Come in.” Jefferson looked up, and the door opened.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to join me for a cup of tea before bedtime. I’ve thought of something else we should discuss.” Hook’s eyes were slightly narrowed, and Jefferson took that to mean that Killian meant business.

“Of course.” He got out of bed and leaned down, kissing the top of Grace’s head. “Goodnight, Grace. Sleep tight. Remember, stay downstairs—our other guest doesn’t sleep well.”

“When will I get to meet her?” Grace asked, a small frown on her lips.

“Soon.” Jefferson promised, though he hoped that his daughter would never have to cross paths with Cora.

“Alright. Goodnight, Papa.” She relented, putting the book aside and settling down. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Jefferson slipped out of the room and closed the door, walking to the kitchen with Hook before saying anything. He didn’t want Grace to hear something she shouldn’t. “What is it?” 

“I told you. I’d like a cup of tea.” Hook raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the counter, his arms crossed.

“Oh really? Is that all?” Jefferson asked, lips drawn into a small scowl.

“Well, no.” Jefferson admitted, letting out a sigh and moving to examine his fingernails. “Cora’s back.”

“She—what?” Face drained of color, Jefferson stared at Hook. “I didn’t hear her come in.”

“Well she didn’t use the _door_.” Hook scoffed. “She has _magic_.”

“And why are you telling me this?” Jefferson asked, his voice raising slightly in pitch.

“Why do you think?”

“What do you mean?” 

“She wants to see you.” 

“Why?”

“How should I know?” 

“She would have told you.”

“I’m afraid not. Go ask her yourself. She’s in your room—or rather, her room, I suppose.”

Nodding, Jefferson put a hand to his throat, not needing to feel his scars under his scarf to know that they were there.

“Thank you for telling me.” The words came out easily, but it didn’t feel as if he’d said them. Knowing that in just a few minutes he was going to have to face the Queen of Hearts was taxing on his emotional state. In fact, Jefferson wasn’t certain that he could feel anything. He was too resigned to how powerless he was to feel.

 _Alice in Wonderland_ wasn’t his story. Not anymore. This was his story now, but at that moment, he didn’t have the strength tell it.

 

_xxx_

 

“Jefferson?” Eyes narrowing, Hook tapped his foot impatiently on the tiled kitchen floor. “Are you coming or not?” He asked, jerking his head toward the doorway. Cora didn’t like to be kept waiting.

The hatter wasn’t saying anything. He didn’t look quite right, but Killian was sure that it was nothing more than Jefferson’s fear of Cora. He’d seen Jefferson at the height of his madness. Even if he was frightened, he wasn’t in danger of going down _that_ road again.

Not yet, anyway.

“Come on.” Rolling his eyes, he grabbed Jefferson’s elbow and tugged him toward the door. After a moment’s hesitation, the other man started to follow him. “It’s strange to have you so quiet. You’ve been nagging me all day.” He commented, glancing back. 

Jefferson’s head was down, his arms crossed tightly. It seemed to Hook that when Cora was around, Jefferson was a completely different person. He certainly didn’t mind. His day had been full of Jefferson telling him to wipe his feet and stop leaving the “refrigerator” open.

Stopping on front of Cora’s door, Killian raised his hook and gently rapped it against the door a few times. “Are you in there? I’ve got your hatter.”

“Don’t  call me hatter.” The man behind Hook started to correct him, but stopped in favor of scowling and running a hand through his hair, shifting from one foot to the other.

The door opened to reveal Cora, who was standing with one hand on her hip. She was no longer wearing the blue dress that she’d had on since before coming to Storybrooke, though her hair was still up. It seemed like she, like Hook, had been fitted with clothing more suited to the world that they were in. 

That probably meant that she’d found her daughter, and been welcomed with open arms.

“It took you long enough to fetch him.” She stepped back slightly, and inclined her head toward the room. “Come in.”

Hook turned to leave, and her eyes narrowed. 

“You, too, _Captain_.”

“What could you possibly need me for?” He replied, frowning and meeting her gaze. 

“It’s not about _me_ needing _you_ , Killian. Now do as I say.” Cora opened the door slightly wider.

Killian opened his mouth, and closed it a moment later. Knowing better than to refuse her, he took a few long steps into the room and looked around. It was no different than when he and Jefferson had been there earlier, though there were a few bags next to the bed, presumably Cora’s.

“Jefferson.”

Hook looked over his shoulder and saw that the hatter hadn’t moved beyond the doorframe. Only when Cora said his name did he step through it, his gaze focused near the window, not on Cora.

“Wonderful.” Cora closed the door with a touch too delicate for someone capable of being so cruel. “Before we continue, I want to remind you boys that there’s a child sleeping downstairs.” With both hands on the door, she looked over her shoulder, her back to the two men behind her. “…so keep your voices down.”

“Just what are you planning on doing, Cora?” Hook asked. Cora may have gotten the best of him on the ship, but after a day of rest and raiding Jefferson’s cabinets, his pride was back in order. 

“You weren’t quite so chatty the last time we were alone.” Cora turned around and leaned back against the door. 

“We’re not alone.” Hook pointed out, gesturing to the man standing next to him. “He’s here, too.”

“We might as well be alone. He’s like a frightened rabbit.” Laughing, Cora approached Jefferson and grabbed his chin, forcing their gazes to meet. “Look at me when I’m speaking.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Jefferson whispered, his tone soft. It seemed like he’d resigned to what was going to happen. Hook was surprised. When Cora was gone, Jefferson had plenty of fight in him.

He had to wonder what exactly had been done to him in Wonderland to make him so weak in the hands of the Queen of Hearts. Surely it had taken more than a few kicks to the face to make him so submissive. 

“In fact, I’m not in the mood for your impatience, Killian. Why don’t you sit down?” Cora suggested, signaling to a plush chair by the door.

Rolling his eyes, Hook obeyed and sat down, willing enough for the moment to watch what Cora had planned.

“You’re both being so well-behaved.” A grin on her face, Cora took Jefferson’s hand and moved it to her chest. The hatter’s eyes widened his shock, and he froze.

In that moment, Hook realized that the lingering thoughts he’d had since entering the room had been confirmed: they were going to have sex. Jefferson and Cora were going to have sex. He and Cora were going to have sex. He and Jefferson were _both_ going to have sex with Cora. 

Suddenly much more interested in what was happening, he leaned forward slightly.

“Undress me.” Cora whispered, and Jefferson nodded. Not breaking eye contact, he unbuttoned Cora’s blazer, and then the white shirt that she wore underneath it. Moving his hands to her shoulders, he pushed both pieces of clothing down her arms until they fell off. 

Hook was unfamiliar with the bodice that she wore underneath. Presumably, it was also exclusive to Storybrooke. It was far more revealing than a corset, but he didn’t mind. There were straps going over her shoulders, and her breasts were comfortably resting against her chest. From what he could see, it closed in the back, but he couldn’t see any laces. Whatever it was, he wanted Cora to take it off. 

This strange, new bodice was far less restrictive than what Hook was used to, and he appreciated that. Cora’s breasts were no longer pushed up like they’d been in her elaborate blue dress, but he didn’t mind at all. Seeing them rest comfortably against this new bodice—almost echoing the way that his own hands could cup them—was entirely new, and very welcome. 

Whatever it was that Cora was wearing, Killian definitely approved. 

Jefferson hesitated for a moment, perhaps unsure how to continue. A threatening look from Cora shook him from his stupor in the next moment, and he reached behind her. Grasping the top of the zipper, he pulled down. Cora’ skirt fell to the floor, and she neatly stepped out of it before kicking it away. It vanished under the bed, but that didn’t matter. Killian was watching Cora, not her clothes.

Her shoes joined the pile under the bed in the next moment.

In only the strange bodice, her undergarment—a simple scrap of fabric that Hook dearly wished gone—and stockings, she was still far too dressed for his liking.

Jefferson’s hands were raised, and he seemed unsure. Hook didn’t blame him. He wouldn’t have been able to decide what to take off either. Each possibilities was all too tantalizing. 

On second thought, he knew _exactly_ what he would do. He’d slip his hook under the front of her bodice, and pull until it snapped. Maybe she’d be surprised—her chest might rise, her nipples hard and alert with nothing to shield them.

Jefferson was going too slowly. A low growl rising in his throat, Hook leaned forward, one of his hands slipping down to squeeze between his legs. The thought of ripping Cora’s clothes off wasn’t doing anything to curb his arousal.

“My stockings, Jefferson.” Cora said softly. Nodding, he began to kneel down, and she raised one of her legs as he did so. Hooking his fingers in the top of the stocking, he looked up and made eye contact with the queen, slowly pulling it off of her. In another minute they were both off

“Enough.” Jefferson had been about to move his hands to the black scrap of fabric between her legs when she spoke. Stopping immediately, he stayed on his knees but didn’t look away.

“I think it’s your turn, don’t you?” Laughing she beckoned and he rose to his feet again. “So many _layers_.” She casually began undoing the buttons to his vest, and pulled it off of him as quickly as he could. His shirt came next, and he was left looking rather strange in trousers and a scarf.

“Only the weak cover their scars.” She whispered, gripping the end of the scarf. Killian focused  on the hatter instead of the queen for a moment, and realized that as soon as her hand neared his neck, he’d started to tremble. “…not that I can say I’m surprised.” It took her longer than Hook had expected, but within a minute, Jefferson’s scarf was off.

Killian did a double take. Looking back, he couldn’t remember ever seeing the other man’s neck. In Wonderland, he hadn’t been focusing on the Mad Hatter’s throat. Since coming to Storybrooke, the other man had always been wearing a scarf.

The raised, ugly scar around his throat baffled him. It was almost as if he’d been decapitated. Eyes narrowing, Hook tilted his head to the side. Maybe he had been. It would certainly explain why he was so sensitive about it. Why he tried so hard to hide it.

 “Look at you. You haven’t changed at all.” Cora crooned, undoing Jefferson’s trousers. She moved to unzip them, but paused. “Take them off.”

His cheeks burning red, Jefferson did as he was told and stepped back so that he could take them off. He was left standing naked except for his _briefs_ , a word that Killian remembered from an earlier conversation that they’d had about Storybrooke fashion.

They certainly suited him well enough. Plain and dark, they clung to his hips and snugly cupped his genitals and backside. They looked comfortable enough. Perhaps Hook would invest in a pair. The captain, for his part, wasn’t wearing anything under the _jeans_ (another new word) that Jefferson had lent him.

It was occasionally uncomfortable, but the captain hadn’t done enough moving around in them for that to matter. 

Eyes moving to Jefferson’s front, Hook raised an eyebrow. Even though he was still covered, it was clear to the pirate that the hatter wasn’t aroused. If they’re positions had been reversed, Hook would have been hard and ready for whatever Cora wanted. Unless, of course—

Killian’s eyes widened for a split second, and his hand between his legs stilled. It hadn’t occurred to him that Cora might be thinking about using her magic. Clenching involuntarily, he felt his face heat up for a moment.

Was _that_ what she was going to do to Jefferson? It would certainly explain his nervousness. He wondered if she’d done it before. How many times? Had he liked it? How many men had she done it to?

With mingled surprise and the slightest bit of horror, Killian realized that he was hard. The memory of what Cora had done to him—that _feeling_ —had been enough to arouse him even more than seeing her undress had. 

The power that the Queen of Hearts had over him—over both of them—was unnerving. 

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” Cora was openly mocking the hatter. Slipping one finger under the band of his briefs, she pulled them taught and peered downwards. For just a moment, Hook found himself craning to see as well, but then stopped.

Seeing another man naked wasn’t uncomfortable or unusual for Killian. He had after all until recently captained an entire crew. But Jefferson wasn’t who he wanted to look at. It was Cora. Cora was the one that they were _both_ in that room for. Not each other.

Killian had never thought to venture into any other branch sexuality than his passion for the opposite sex. Why would he? Why would anyone?

Killian was broken from his thoughts when he realized three things. Firstly, his hand had crept into his newly unbuttoned jeans. Secondly, both Cora and Jefferson were completely naked.

Thirdly, they were kissing. More accurately, Cora was kissing Jefferson. She’d pushed the other man back onto the bed, and had one hand no his chest and the other tangled in his hair.

Was this how it looked when she kissed him, too?

He licked his lips, almost able to remember the way that her mouth felt on his. Her kisses were always surprisingly aggressive for a woman with so much self-control.

Swallowing hard, Hook started to move his hand, but didn’t stand. Although he wanted to tell himself that he could do what he wanted, he knew well enough that although he might contest Cora’s judgment in battle, there were no kings in the Queen of Heart’s bedchamber. Only her.

Besides, part of him was excited to watch Cora have her way with the hatter. 

He let out a groan, unable to keep silent, and Cora paused. She looked up, and raised her eyebrows. Reaching behind her head, she pulled out the pins that had kept her hair in place, and it fell down, cascading past her shoulders and _painfully_ shielding her breasts from view.

As if watching her could have been any more tortuous.

“Well?” She asked, her voice low enough that Hook didn’t need to see between her legs to know that she was aroused. 

“Well _what_?” He countered, his voice more unsteady than he would have liked. 

“Aren’t  you coming over?”


	7. Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora has Jefferson lead Emma Swan to a showdown at the clock-tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for how long it took me to write this, but I do have a warning for the next chapter: shit's gonna go down, and somebody's gonna die.

" _Closer_."

There was a comfortable warmth against Killian's back. His concern was who exactly it belonged to. He'd felt the bed shift minutes before—it had woken him up—but hadn't bothered to see whether or it was Cora or Jefferson who had left the bed.

He felt long fingernails gently press against his ribs, and realized that it must have been Jefferson. Turning slightly so that he was lying on his back, he propped himself up slightly on his elbow. Jefferson was pulling on his trousers.

Their eyes briefly met, and but Jefferson quickly turned his face away. The other man looked somewhat guilty, but Hook supposed that he understood why. Unable to help himself, he watched the hatter's bruised backside (courtesy of Cora) disappear into his fitted pants.

The night that the three of them had spent together had been one of the most unique of Hook's life—and he'd had quite a few interesting partners in his day. Jefferson slipped out of the room a moment later and Hook, after observing the curve of the other man's back and the tenseness of his shoulders, lay back down.

Cora was sleeping soundly—or at least pretending to—next to him, one hand on his stomach.

Closing his eyes again, Hook tried to commit every detail of the night before to memory. Even now, some of the things that he'd seen and done sent a shiver down his spine and between his legs. Licking his lips, he grinned, remembering how Cora had looked riding Jefferson.

Her breasts, Hook's very favorite part of her, had been freely moving with the rest of her body, her hair loose and surprisingly untamed as she gyrated over her hatter's body. Jefferson, for his part, had been doing very little. Occasionally he'd moan, his hands tangled in the sheets.

Killian, unsure what else to do, had settled for kneeling behind Cora and gripping her hips, his mouth open and hot over the back of her neck and her shoulders, his erection pressed against the small of her back. Seeming to enjoy his attention, Cora had eventually turned around so that her back was to Jefferson's chest and his cock was to her stomach, and hungrily pressed their mouths together.

But now that night was over, and Killian was awake.

"Go make sure that he's not up to something."

Hook shivered, feeling Cora's breath ghost over his neck. "Yes, ma'am." He chuckled, rolling out of bed and stretching. Curiosity winning him over, he glanced into the full-length mirror that Hatter kept in his bedroom. He was glad to see that the bruises on his hips had mostly faded, though the memories of Cora bending him over the railing of his own ship certainly hadn't.

He pulled on his borrowed and discarded jeans, deciding that undergarments could wait, and exited the room. Chancing a look over his shoulder, he saw Cora looking at him impatiently from the bed, one of her breasts exposed. He desperately wanted to get back into bed and climb on top of her, to be inside of her for the first time, but he knew better.

Today was, from what he understood, their first true day of action in Storybrooke. Sex could wait.

Yawning and running his fingers through his hair, he made his way down the stairs. He paused at the bottom of the staircase, hearing voices from the kitchen. Of course. Jefferson had left to cook breakfast for his daughter. Not wanting to make the hatter more irritable than he was already, Killian ducked into the room where he was staying and rifled around until he found a t-shirt.

Somewhat fully clothed, he made his way into the kitchen.

"Good morning Jefferson. Grace." He nodded to each in turn and leaned back against the counter.

"Good morning, Killian!" Grace looked up briefly from her breakfast. It didn't look as if she suspected anything at all. After spending so much time in Nerverland with the Lost Boy, Hook supposed that he'd forgotten just how trusting children could be. It was almost a painful thought, and he pushed it down immediately.

"Good morning, Grace, and how are you today?" Killian asked, flashing a grin and sitting down at the table.

"I'm fine. Are you hungry? Papa's making eggs." She gestured briefly toward her father, who was at the stove. Looking back to the pirate, her brow furrowed slightly. "Why are you wearing Papa's shirt?"

"Now that you mention it, I'm starving. It feels like a ran a marathon last night." He joked, eyes briefly meeting Jefferson's. "…and your father is lending this to me. I didn't pack appropriately."

The hatter abruptly turned away again in order to, Hook was sure, hide his flushed face. A plate was unceremoniously set down in front of him a few moments later. Evidently Jefferson's need to pacify his houseguests and keep his daughter safe trumped any anger that he had.

"What about your other guest?" Grace piped up, her eyes on her father. "Is she hungry?"

"Famished."

All three of them looked toward the doorway, where Cora was standing in perfect form. In the five minutes it had taken Killian to reach the kitchen, she'd made herself perfectly presentable and ready to face the day. He could only suppose that magic had helped.

There was a clatter a moment later. Jefferson had evidently dropped a spatula, but a few moments later he'd picked it up and rinsed it off. It seemed that daylight didn't cure his fear of the Queen of Hearts.

"Good morning, Cora." Hook gave her his most dashing smile and stood to pull out a chair for her. "Did you sleep well?"

"Eventually." She sat down and looked to Jefferson expectantly. A moment later he presented her with breakfast.

"I didn't know you were hungry, or I would have fixed something better." He grunted apologetically, seeming to fear Cora's displeasure even at something as simple as breakfast.

"I'm sure that this will do, Jefferson. Thank you." She smiled sweetly and briefly clasped his hand. If Grace had not been watching curiously, Killian was certain that the hatter would have jerked away from her touch—so unlike the night before.

"You're welcome." He turned his attention to his daughter, immediately calming down at the sight of her. "Do you need anything else, Grace?"

"No." She shook her head. "Thank you." Her curiosity about Cora had, from what Hook had observed, only grown. She turned to the other woman. "I hope that you're enjoying staying here with us. This is the first time that I've seen you."

"I'm so sorry for that." Cora reached over and gave one of Grace's hands a gentle pat, the perfect image of love and kindness. "We had a longer journey, an I've been very tired. I hope that I haven't offended you or your father."

"Of course not!" Grace assured her. "It's nice to have guests. It's usually just the two of us here, and the house is so big…"

"I can only imagine."

Jefferson moved towards Cora with a plate, and she stood to meet him. "Thank you." She smiled and sat down with her breakfast. "This is wonderful, Jefferson. Your daughter is very lucky."

Nodding a bit, Jefferson turned back to the stove and filled up a final plate before sitting down at the table between Grace and Cora.

"Now that you're settled in, what are you and Killian going to do?" Grace asked, nearly finished with her breakfast and clearly interested in learning more about her father's two guests now that they were both present.

"We're going into town to catch up with some old friends." Cora explained, a smirk tugging at her red lips. "And family."

"Family?" Grace echoed. "Did you lose someone because of the curse, too?"

"Grace, don't—" Jefferson started to speak, but Cora cut him off.

"It's perfectly alright." She met Grace's gaze, her expression gentle. "I did lose someone. My daughter. The curse took her away from me for a time, but I'm pleased to say that we recently got in touch again."

"That's just what happened to us!" Grace looked overjoyed at Cora's story. Killian couldn't help but marvel at Cora's acting prowess—she almost looked motherly as she spoke to Grace. "You must be so happy!"

"I am." Cora assured her. "In fact, we should be leaving soon, shouldn't we, Killian?"

"I suppose we should." The pirate agreed, immediately rising to his feet. "Thank you again for breakfast, Jefferson."

"Of course." The hatter replied stiffly, gathering the empty plates from the table.

"Can I come with?" Grace cut in, whisking her own plate to the sink. "I'd love to meet your daughter!"

"Not today." Cora sounded apologetic. "Perhaps tomorrow."

"I understand." Grace only looked a little disappointed. "I suppose that it will be nice to spend the day with Papa."

"I'm sure it would be, but your father needs to take us into town in his carria—car." Cora quickly corrected herself.

"And you have to do your chores." If Jefferson was surprised that Cora wanted him to come with, he didn't show it. "But we'll be back for dinner." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his daughter's hair.

"Alright." Grace agreed, looking slightly put out at the idea of being away from her father. "I'll be waiting."

"I know." Jefferson glanced toward the door. "Are you both nearly ready?"

"Just give me a moment to get properly dressed. I'll meet you outside." Killian was out of the room in a split second, realizing that he hadn't yet put on the undergarments that made jeans bearable.

"Very well. Jefferson and I will be waiting. Come along." Cora took Jefferson's elbow and steered him toward the door. Once they were outside and out of earshot, she turned to him. "Do you know why I'm taking you with us, Hatter?"

"To make sure I don't tell anyone that you're here." Jefferson guessed, shifting uncomfortably in front of his queen.

"Exactly. And if while we're in Storybrooke you do anything to jeopardize our plans, you'll never see your daughter again. You will obey me. Am I clear?"

"Crystal." Jefferson growled.

"Sorry about that!" Killian jogged up to the car. "Ready?" He paused, and then looked at the vehicle. "…are we actually taking this?"

"Yes." Cora nodded. "We need to learn all that we can…and I need to fill both of you in on what's going to happen."

"Fair enough." Killian sighed, and they all fell silent as Jefferson silently opened the car doors and got his guests seated comfortably. Five or so minutes later, they were driving down the long road that led from Jefferson's secluded manor into the city of Storybrooke.

"So what exactly  _is_  your plan?" Killian asked from the backseat, idly picking under his nails with the tip of his hook.

"We need to convince Regina once and for all that her place is by my side. To do that, we need to give her what she's always wanted."

"And what's that?" Jefferson asked, tightly clutching the steering wheel.

"Destroy the Charmings, of course." Cora replied simply.

"I mean no offense, but if it's taken Regina this long and she hasn't managed to kill Snow White and her husband, what makes you think that you'll be able to do it in a day?" Killian asked, eyebrows raised. "We couldn't even put a dent in her back in your land."

"Not kill them." Cora corrected the pirate. "Destroy them. We're not going to kill the happy couple. We're going to kill their daughter. _Destroy their happiness_. That's what Regina wants."

"Emma?" The two men said nearly in unison. The car veered slightly, and Hook sat up in surprise.

"You can't mean Swan. There's no way that we'd be able to even if we wanted to! She's the town's hero, Cora, you can't think that here of all places it would be easy to—"

"Please put your lust aside,  _Captain_. For the good of us all." Rolling her eyes, Cora looked out the window. "Without their champion, the people of Storybrooke will crumble, and my daughter will again be the unchallenged queen."

"With her doting mother at her side." Muttered Jefferson.

"Yes." Cora reached over and gave Jefferson's thigh a warning squeeze.

"Does Regina know what you're planning?" Hook asked, slouching against the car window and watching the trees go by. He much preferred travelling by boat. Or even horse, and hoped that they wouldn't need to ride in the hatter's car again.

"No." Cora kept her hand on Jefferson's thigh. "I know what's best for her, though she may not. She's tried so hard to prove that she's _changed_ …whatever that means. Once it's done, she'll realize that it was the right choice."

"From my experience," Jefferson said slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the road. "Your daughter doesn't like it when people do things behind her back."

"Oh, I don't plan on doing anything behind her back." Laughing, Cora gave Jefferson's leg a gentle stroke. "I'm going to kill the girl in front of her."

xxx

As Jefferson brought the car to a stop, he could feel himself teetering dangerously between numbness and madness. If Cora was victorious, he might be able to get back to Grace. They might be able to be happy.  _Maybe_.

If Cora lost—and he needed her gone, he needed her to leave or he was going to break down and then he and his daughter could never, _never_  be happy—the people of Storybrooke would surely name him an accomplice. They wouldn't listen to him, wouldn't believe that he was merely a pawn, a prisoner, in the Queen of Hearts' game.

How could they? He'd kidnapped their queen, Snow White, and her daughter the savior. He'd explicitly proven his madness to them, and first impressions were difficult to change. They'd take Grace away from him, and he wouldn't have a choice. He certainly couldn't try and turn against Cora and Hook: he wouldn't stand a chance.

Jefferson could see no choice but to walk headfirst into his own undoing.

"I haven't told you the best part."

Her voice brought him out of his thoughts, and Jefferson turned slightly to look at Cora. "What's that?" He managed to say, the car suddenly far too small a space for him to breathe.

"They already know I'm here."

"What?" Killian piped up from the back, leaning forward so that his head was between Cora and Jefferson's. "Why haven't you told me? I could have already killed the crocodile by now!"

"They don't know that  _you're_  here, Killian. I never said  _that_." Cora rolled her eyes just slightly and pressed a finger to the pirate's lips for a second or two. "They only know that I'm here. That's where you come in, Jefferson: you need to tell Emma Swan where I am."

"What makes you think that she'll believe me?" Jefferson grunted. "I'm not exactly _popular_  here."

"Simple: you'll say that I have Grace. You have enough madness from Wonderland and love for your daughter left in you to make her believe you."

Unable to believe what was going to happen after they got out of the car and he went to find Emma, Jefferson took a deep breath. "Where should I take her?"

"To the clock-tower. Regina, Killian and I will be waiting there for you. Now go."

Unable to disobey even after years apart, Jefferson got out of the car and began to walk. He didn't look back.

xxx

Arms crossed, Hook turned to look at the gigantic clock-face that he, Regina and Cora were standing behind, hidden from the citizens of Storybrooke. "It's been nearly an hour. Are you sure that your hatter hasn't betrayed you?"

"They'd already be here if that was the case." Cora didn't look impatient, but in the pirate's experience, that didn't mean anything.

"Jefferson's coming?" Regina cut in, looking quickly between her mother and Killian. "You didn't tell me that. Who else? And why? I don't appreciate how little you've told me, mother."

"You'll see." Cora promised, gripping her daughter's hand and smiling. "Just wait." The words had barely left her mouth when muffled voices could be heard at the bottom of the staircase that led up to the clock-tower.

"You're sure that this is where she is?" Came Emma Swan's voice. The sheriff sounded uneasy, and alone apart from one more set of footsteps.

"I'm sure." Jefferson's reply was quiet but intense. "I won't take chances when it comes to my daughter. You should understand that. You have a son."

Regina tensed for a moment, her brow furrowing at the sound of Emma's voice.

"There they are!" Emma's footsteps increased as she glimpsed the group at the top of the stairs. Sword in hand, she stopped. For a split second, she looked ferocious. In the next instant, she faltered. "Where's your daughter?"

No reply.

"Jefferson?" Emma slowly turned to the hatter. "Where's Grace?"


	8. Long Live the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora trie to kill Emma Swan, but things don't go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Hello, everyone! I’d like to thank everyone who is supporting and enjoying this fic. Please comment with suggestions, concerns, etc if you have them! I have a few quick things to say. Firstly, I know that I probably shouldn’t be posting this chapter so soon, but because I left my readers hanging for months I think that you all deserve it. On that note, I’d like to apologize for the quality of this chapter. I promise that the rest of the fic won’t be this convoluted. I’m going to hurry up and try and finish this fic before September, because I’ll be out of the country for awhile and don’t want to abandon it that long. Lastly, after this chapter Madhook can finally begin: so get set, ready, and go! : ) Oh and Ps. If you’d rather follow this story on fanfiction.net, here’s the link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8977345/1/Thou-Art-to-Me-a-Delicious-Torment

"Where's Grace?" Emma repeated, her voice hardening to hide her panic. Jefferson had been sure to insist that there wasn't time to find either of her parents. They had to go alone! They had to save Grace! Now, the realm-hopper felt like throwing up.

He'd helped destroy everything.

"Mother, why is Ms. Swan h—" Regina said slowly, unable to finish the thought as Cora reached forward and the savior was pulled up from the ground, grabbing at her throat and gasping. Cora was choking her. "Mother, no!"

"This is what you asked for, Regina. You wanted to destroy Snow White's happiness. They took your son from you, so we'll take their daughter from them."

Cora took a few steps forward and lowered her hand. Emma took in a huge breath, panting hard after being denied air. She only had a moment of relief, however, before Cora plunged her hand into the blonde's chest and squeezed.

"Mother, no!" Regina cried out, trying to rush forward.

She was prevented from stopping Cora not by her mother, but by Emma. Moments after Cora grabbed her heart, Emma reached forward herself, and into Cora's chest. As she did so, something seemed to explode between the two women, forcing the other people in the clock-tower back.

Heart racing, Jefferson stared. In all of his years jumping through portals and into new realms, he'd never seen anything quite like this. To add to the chaos, rapid footsteps began to echo up the staircase.

"I can't get it out!" Cora growled, pulling hard on Emma's heart.

"Mom!" Stuck on the other side of the two women, Henry tried desperately to get to Emma, or maybe Regina. Maybe both. Jefferson wasn't entirely sure. "Mom!"

"Henry!" Emma managed to get out, her own hand still in Cora's chest. "GO! Get Mary Margaret! Get help!"

"I won't leave you!"

"GO!" It wasn't Emma, but Regina, who snarled the final command. Seemingly unable to deny an order that both his mothers agreed on, Henry raced down the stairs.

Jefferson actually let out a laugh. So this was to be the end of it all.

"There's…there's nothing here." Emma pulled, but couldn't seem to get her hand out of the woman in front of her. "She doesn't have a heart!"

"Foolish girl!" Cora laughed. "Do you really think I'd put my heart someplace so obvious? No, my heart is somewhere much more important. Somewhere it can do some good. It's exactly where I need it."

"Please stop!" Regina cried out.

Cora didn't look back at her daughter, but her mouth curled down into a frown. "This is what's best for you, Regina!"

"Henry will never love me if you do this! No one will ever love me if you do this!"

"I will love you! And so will your people."

"No! They'll only fear me!" Regina put out her hands against the force-field keeping her from her mother, trying to use her own magic to break it. "Just like before!"

"That doesn't matter! Power is what matters!" Cora gave another hard pull, and Emma let out a sob.

At those words, Regina faltered. "You haven't changed." She whispered, her hands lowering.

"I've only ever wanted what's best for you. That will never change."

"You don't love me. You still don't love me." Regina whimpered, one of her hands creeping up to rest over her own heart. "You just want power."

"Don't be ridicu—" Cora was unable to continue, because she screamed.

Both Killian and Jefferson moved back. Neither of them had ever heard the Queen of Hearts let out a noise like that before. Jefferson looked back to Regina, and his eyes widened.

She had a hand plunged into her own chest, and was sobbing as she pulled. A heart lay in her hand, black and beating. "A place where it can do good." She whispered, tears running down her face. "A place where you need it."

"Clever girl!" Cora gave another fruitless tug at Emma's heart. "Now put it back and let me finish this!"

"You never told me. Why didn't you tell me that you put your heart inside me? Why!" Regina demanded, trembling. Jefferson felt like he was witnessing something that he had no right to, but he couldn't look away.

"Because you would have taken it out." Cora said matter-of-factly, her composure regained even with her heart exposed to all. "So I made you forget."

"When!"

"After the stable boy."

Those last few words brought Regina to her knees. "It was you! It was all you! This is why I've never been able to—never been able to…" Her voice trailed off, but Jefferson knew what Regina had wanted to say.

This was why she'd never been able to love.

"You've been poisoning me! Your own daughter!"

"I had no choice! Now help me finish this—help me finish her!" Cora demanded, frustration visibly growing again.

"No."

Jefferson had never seen the Evil Queen so vulnerable, or so sure of her own convictions. She looked like the young girl she'd been when they'd first met: the new queen who had only wanted love.

"No?" At that, Cora looked over her shoulder.

"You don't love me. You can't love me. No one can, and it's your fault." Openly sobbing, Regina began to squeeze.

"No!" It was Cora's turn to protest, but she was still locked in a stalemate with Emma, unable to pull her hand out of the savior's chest no matter how hard she tried.

"I'm sorry, mother." Regina whimpered. "I'm sorry." The blackened heart in her hand crumbled in her hand, and Cora collapsed, leaving Emma free. The savior fell and took a trembling breath and a staggering step.

"Mother!" Regina rushed to Cora's side, pulling the older woman to her chest. "I'm sorry, mother. I'm so sorry."

Her face full of a clarity that Jefferson had never before seen on her face, Cora reached up and pressed a hand to her daughter's cheek.

"You would have been enough." She whispered, and then was still.

The Queen of Hearts was no more.

xxx

By the time Henry returned with his grandparents, there was no fight.

Emma, having not just lost her mother, had had the sense to push Killian to the ground and pin his arms behind his back, not about to let Cora's biggest accomplice run from the scene.

That was how Killian found himself laying uncomfortably on his stomach, barely able to see Jefferson and Regina.

It seemed that Emma had realized Jefferson wasn't a threat rather quickly when instead of bolting, he'd fallen to his knees next to Regina and offered her an embrace. The pirate could only reason that they had some sort of history together. But of course they did: nearly everyone in the Evil Queen's cursed town of Storybrooke had a history with her.

His attention returned to the woman kneeling on his back. "You know, when I have a woman on top of me I pref—"

"Oh, save it!" Emma growled, giving him a sound punch in the back of his head.

"Mom!" At first, Henry rushed toward Emma, but he paused when he saw Regina, broken and shaking as she clutched her dead mother. Suddenly looking very young, and very scared, he walked over to the woman who had raised him and took her from Jefferson's arms. "Mom." He murmured, and Regina let out a cry.

"Emma! What happened!" Snow White rushed over to her daughter.

"I…don't know." Emma said, surveying the scene around her. "But…Regina saved me."

"What?" Bewildered and even more pale than usual, Snow looked to her stepmother. "You don't mean…"

"Yeah. She killed her. She killed Cora to protect me…to protect all of us."

"And what about these two?" Charming asked, looking between Jefferson and the pirate. The hatter still hadn't tried to run.

"We know that Hook was in league with Cora." Emma looked to her father, but kept the pirate firmly held down. "Jefferson led me here. He said that Cora had kidnapped his daughter…"

At that point, Jefferson cut in. "She had…in a sense. She was keeping us prisoner. I couldn't…I couldn't let her hurt my daughter." His voice broke for a moment.

Henry looked up from his mother, looking slightly alarmed. "Is Grace okay?"

Jefferson nodded. "She's at home. She doesn't know the danger she was in—that we all were in." He met Charming's gaze. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do."

"But you still did help her. You could have told Emma the truth and brought all of us here, but you took the coward's way out and helped Cora." Charming's gaze hardened again, and Jefferson looked away. "We need a council." He looked at his wife. "It wouldn't be fair for to decide what to do with them here."

"I agree." Snow nodded, and Emma roughly pulled Killian to his feet.

"Easy there." He teased, pressing back against the savior.

Charming was in front of Killian in two long strides, pulling the pirate up by his collar, their faces inches apart. "That's my daughter you're talking to." He growled.

Killian only laughed, getting a good look at Cora's body for the first stime.

His queen was dead. Gone—and what hope had he of killing the crocodile if the Charmings executed him?

He needed a plan.

xxx

"I call this town meeting to order." Charming stood at the front of city hall, a small group of citizens sitting in front of him, all in the front two rows. Regina was seated next to Charming but said nothing, withdrawn and stiff as she looked forward, not seeming to focus on anything in particular.

Jefferson was watching from the other side of the table. He wasn't shackled, but Killian was. Regina had chained him with magic so that he was all but immobilized, only able to speak and to breathe. She'd trusted Jefferson not to run, perhaps because on some small level she understood what he'd done.

He had, after all, only wanted to protect his child.

"As you already know, we're here to decide what to do with Cora's accomplices." Charming faced his audience, raising a hand as the dwarf Grumpy stood to speak. "We've already decided that death is not an option. It never has been for us, and I can only pray it never will be." He cleared his throat and turned toward the two men in question. "Before we discuss anything, both of you have a chance to speak."

Captain Hook was the first to open his mouth, an eyebrow cocked as he strained against Regina's magic.

"I'm a pirate," He drawled. "and you can't blame me for that. I worked for Cora just like I've done for others in the past."

"And could do in the future." Came a low mutter from within the crowd, a hum of agreement following it from the other seated citizens of Storybrooke.

"…besides, I didn't come here to destroy anyone's happiness." His eyes narrowed, and he searched for one particular face in the crowd. "I came to kill Rumpelstiltskin." He fell silent after that.

"Is that all you have to say?" Charming asked. The pirate nodded. "Then it's your turn, Jefferson."

Clearing his throat, Jefferson crossed his arms and looked past the crowd. "Cora threatened my daughter. I only helped her to protect my family." His lips drew into a thin frown. "…and I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do."

He knew that it was clear to the people in front of him just how close he was to breaking down. No one had told him if Grace was alright. It was well past dinner. She'd be worrying. No one would tell him if she was safe.

"I was a coward, I'll admit it." He continued, still unable to look any of the room's other occupants in the eye. "The Queen of Hearts—" He faltered. "Cora, as you know her…I've met her before." He didn't dare continue, unsure if he could keep going if he let those memories in. "I couldn't say no to her. I was too afraid." On his last few words, he brought hand up to shield his eyes, not wanting the tears that had escaped his eyes to be seen by others. "I didn't have a choice."

Once Jefferson too had fallen silent, Charming again addressed the crowd. "Well?"

A passionate chorus that had been building throughout the two men's speeches broke out as soon as Charming granted them a fraction of permission.

"Damn your moral code—kill the pirate!"

"He was only protecting his daughter!"

"But who's going to protect us? Kill them both!"

"Make him walk his own plank!"

The crowd grew grew louder and louder, until a new voice cut in: one that every person in the council chamber had taken orders from.

"Enough!" It was Regina, and her magic blazed as she stood and faced the crowd. "As if any of you have any right to speak! It wasn't your queen who died, and it wasn't your mother! It was mine! My mother is dead—because of me." She was crying freely, and Jefferson felt guilt trickle down his spine. "I'm the one who sacrificed! I'm the one who has to live with what I've done!"

Charming, along with the now silent crowd, was clearly surprised. "Did you…have a suggestion, Regina?" He said gently, as if even one wrong word could set the mayor off.

Well, Jefferson thought to himself, one word was probably all it would take.

"Yes." Regina drew a deep breath and whipped a handkerchief from the pocket of her blazer, quickly wiping her eyes. "Because you are too weak to kill, I have another solution."

"I know both of these men better than any of you. I've seen both of them for what they really are." Her eyes narrowed as she regarded Killian and Jefferson. "…but you don't need to take my word for it, as they were both completely honest."

"Hook is a pirate. He'd do anything for the right price…and Jefferson is a coward, but he does love his daughter. He'd do anything to keep her safe, and stop us from taking her away from him."

At the mere suggestion of losing Grace, Jefferson flinched, but contained himself. If he had an outburst here of all places, he knew that he had no chance of keeping custody of Grace.

"Think about what happened: Jefferson hates Hook. He has to. Hook," She left her mother out of it, not ready to breach that subject just yet. "imprisoned him in his own home. Threatened his daughter. I," Her voice quieted. "know better than most just what a parent is capable of when someone tries to take away a child."

On the other side of Regina, Emma Swan looked down at her lap.

"If anyone is to keep the pirate caged, it should be him."

"Excuse me?" Both men spoke at once, and Jefferson took a small step toward Regina.

"What do you mean?" He said, his voice low. Jefferson wanted to, if possible, put the last few day behind him: he never wanted to see Killian again.

"I don't trust the pirate at all, but I do trust Jefferson to do whatever's best for he and his daughter." Regina continued. "…it's a simple spell."

The whole room seemed to tense: they all knew that magic came with a price.

"To put it into words that you can all understand, it would essentially make Jefferson the pirate's keeper. If Killian tries to run—gets a certain distance from Jefferson—he dies." Her lips curled up into a smile.

Jefferson shook his head and spoke, not caring if his words were out of turn.

"No! I won't have that man in my home! And I won't risk my own life with one of your god dam—"

"Your life wouldn't be in danger. You would know that if you let me finish!" Regina snapped, and for a moment the hatter was reminded of a younger, equally stubborn but more temperamental queen. "So let me continue."

Jefferson relented and stepped back into place next to Killian.

"Like I said, it's a simple spell. If you'd like to add a clause making sure that absolutely no harm comes to your daughter without Hook risking death, then so be it."

Jefferson was only satisfied because he knew that he didn't have a choice.

"What about me?" The pirate piped up, still immobilized. "Don't I get a say?"

"No." Charming cut in, and turned to meet Regina's gaze. "How soon can you cast the spell?"

"Immediately."


	9. The Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina casts a spell to make Jefferson the pirate's keeper.

In the next few minutes, City Hall gradually emptied until only Regina, Charming, Emma, Jefferson and Killian remained. Other than idly pulling against the magical restraints that still held him in place, the pirate said nothing. He knew better than to speak when Regina was still on the edge of anger. He would wait.

Even if they did enact the spell, he wasn't terribly worried. If Jefferson was at all close to Regina, (again, he reminded himself that everyone in Storybrooke had some sort of history with the Evil Queen) he probably hated her. Probably hated Rumpelstiltskin, too.

Most people did.

That was why even if Regina went through with the spell before Killian could find a way out, it wouldn't matter: Jefferson would be easy enough to work with. As long as he was kind to Grace, and he had no intentions to harm the child unless she tried to stand between himself and his crocodile, he didn't foresee any problems.

He'd come this far to get what he wanted: he wasn't about to turn back.

"So what do you need, Regina?" Charming's voice broke Killian's thoughts, and he began to once more pay attention.

"Take them to my house. I'll be there shortly." Regina instructed, standing and brushing off her jacket. "Wait for me there."

"Alright." Charming agreed, starting to lead the two men out of the council chamber.

"Wait." Jefferson spoke up, looking to Emma. "Can someone call Grace and tell her that I'm alright? Please? I told her that I'd be home by now."

Emma exchanged a quick look with her father, and then nodded. "Yeah. Sure. You can call her from Regina's if you want."

"Thank you." The hatter visibly relaxed, and behind his bored expression, Killian laughed. He'd briefly thought that Jefferson's time in Storybrooke might have made him stronger, but it was clear after the time they'd spent together that he was just as weak as when he was little more than a slave to the Queen of Hearts.

Cora.

His chest briefly tightened, and he frowned. It was hard—impossibly, almost—to accept that Cora was gone. She'd been a part of his life, of his schemes, for long enough that he hadn't been ready to see her go. And the sex.

The sex.

Inwardly, he groaned. It wasn't wise to dwell on something so shallow, but he couldn't deny that he'd miss it. He'd never even gotten to be inside her…but she'd been in him. The thought made him uncomfortable, and he again focused on what was happening.

Still immobilized, he'd been hoisted between Charming and Jefferson (who had still barely objected to their sentence, the fool) and was being half-carried and half-dragged out of City Hall toward Charming's truck.

"Can you take Jefferson if I take Hook?" Charming asked his daughter as he and the hatter lifted Killian into the truck.

"Sure." Emma agreed, quickly looking Jefferson up and down before cracking a smile. "As long as he doesn't lead me back to his house and force me into hat-making, I think we'll be alright."

"I've apologized for that." Jefferson muttered, slipping into the sheriff's yellow bug.

"Yeah, and you're lucky that we forgave you." Rolling her eyes, Emma got into the driver's seat and closed the door.

Not bothering to buckle Killian in, Charming slid into his own seat and started up the truck. "For the record, you deserve worse than this." He didn't look at the pirate as he began to drive. "Remember that."

Grunting to show that he'd heard, Killian stared ahead at the road in front of them.

In what seemed like no time at all, Jefferson and Charming were carrying the pirate into Regina's home and unceremoniously depositing him in what he was sure was a very expensive armchair. Regina arrived less than ten minutes later, clutching a small bottle that was no doubt from the crocodile himself.

Killian recoiled at the idea of having Rumplestiltskin's magic used on him, his mouth twisted into a scowl.

Jefferson was in the other room talking to his daughter on the phone, but he returned after only a few minutes, looking guilty. He'd surely have to tell Grace the truth the next time they met. It served him right for hiding the truth from her.

"I'm sorry, but I have to say it again." The hatter looked between Emma, Regina, and Charming. "I don't want that man living in my house."

"And I'm sorry to say it again, but you brought this on yourself when you helped Cora." Emma crossed her arms.

"And he's not going to hurt your daughter." Regina added more softly, looking down her nose at Hook. "…I'll make sure of that."

"Besides, just because you have to live together doesn't mean that you have to get along." Charming shrugged. "…I wouldn't, if someone did to me what he and Cora did to you."

At every mention of her mother, Regina seemed to tense. Perhaps it was because of that that everyone quieted down and sat.

Everyone except Killian, who met Regina's gaze.

"No chance that you'll listen to my objections?"

"No." Regina said flatly, leaning over the coffee table and starting to write on a withered piece of parchment. If he tried hard enough, Hook could almost see down her shirt, but it was hardly worth it.

It wasn't Regina's chest that he wanted to see—to touch—it was Cora's. Again, he cursed himself for being so sentimental. There was no time for that. Not when he had a crocodile to kill.

"You'll all be happy to know that I'm writing this contact myself, not Gold." Regina added. "Which means that none of us are going to get caught in any loopholes."

"Be that as it may, I'd like to read it over before anyone signs it if it's all the same to you." Charming leaned back against the couch where he and Emma were sitting.

"Fine." Regina gave a small nod. "…to be clear, I'm going to go over the details of the spell again, so that both of you—" She gave Jefferson and Hook a small gesture. "are aware."

"Jefferson. As punishment for assisting Killian Jones and…and my mother in the attempted murder of Emma Swan," She swallowed, as if lingering on the thought of Cora. Hook could relate. "you are to, essentially, become the pirate's keeper. You will watch over him and make sure that no one is hurt because of him."

"And he won't hurt my daughter?" Jefferson interjected.

"He won't hurt your daughter." Regina nodded briefly. "Or you, for that matter. It wouldn't do for him to kill you and then run off…" She scribbled down something else on the parchment.

"I'd just like to remind all of you that if you'd just let me kill Rumpelstiltskin, you wouldn't have to worry about any of this." Hook growled. "That's the only reason I'm here."

"You were willing enough to help Cora try to kill me!" Emma pointed out, scowling at the pirate.

"It was nothing personal, love." Killian would have leaned forward if he'd been able to, but he was unfortunately still bound by Regina's magic. "I was only helping Cora to get what I wanted."

"Exactly. We don't need you helping anyone else to get what you want." Charming frowned.

"And you aren't worried about that happening with me?" Jefferson asked, probably trying to find a way to get out of the spell.

"No. You have what you want. You only wanted your daughter, right?" Emma asked. "…besides, you don't seem so crazy any more, now that the curse is broken." Her voice softened slightly. "…I can't say that I'm not still pissed about what you did, but you were right. It would have driven anyone crazy."

Inclining his head slightly, Jefferson fell silent.

"Well, I've finished writing up the contract." Regina said after a few moments of silence, moving over so that Charming could read it.

"…looks good." Looking up, Charming locked gazes with Hook. "Now what?"

"I'll be right back." Regina said sweetly, standing and going to the kitchen.

"I want you all to know that I am very much against this." Killian muttered, wishing that he could move and at least make himself comfortable. He had to praise his captors for going to such lengths to make sure that he wouldn't' run.

It showed that they could learn.

Bad for him, but bravo for the Ms. Mills and the Charmings.

When Regina returned, she was carrying two glasses that were half-full with what Killian could only assume was wine.

"I can only assume that you could both use a drink after everything that's happened." She said almost coyly, pulling the stopper out of the bottle that she had most definitely gotten from the crocodile. She poured it out between the two glasses and the parchment, each getting about a third of the shimmering liquid.

Jefferson willingly took the glass that he was handed. "I drink it?" He asked, receiving a nod in return. Briefly looking at Hook, he downed it in one go, coughing a few times once he'd swallowed.

"I forgot to tell you. It burns." Regina's voice was dry as she approached Hook with the other glass. She pressed it to his lips, her own drawn into a thin frown. "Drink."

Letting out a low growl, Hook paused and then parted his lips. He knew when to give in. This would only be a minor hiccup. He'd waited this long to get to Rumpelstiltskin. What would another few extra days or weeks be on top of that?

"Good boy." Regina whispered, waiting until the pirate had drained every last drop to lower the glass. The parchment briefly glowed blue, and Killian felt a pulse of energy. Nothing seemed to happen after that.

"Is that it?" He asked critically, looking between the other people in the room.

"That's it." Regina waved her hand, and Killian was finally able to move again.

"In City Hall, you talked about this spell like you'd done it before. Have you?" Emma asked, leaning back against the couch and looking at Regina curiously.

"Me? No. But it was fairly common at one point." A very dangerous smile was on Regina's mouth. "Before your time."

"Common for what?" Jefferson asked flatly, evidently not amused. Killian leaned forward and let his elbows rest on his knees, equally focused on Regina. "Prison sentences?"

"No. Men would often use it on their wives to make sure they didn't stray. Of course, it fell out of fashion—"

"Excuse me?" Jefferson abruptly stood, and took a few quick steps over to the mayor. "I did not agree to—"

"I am NOT his wife!" Killian cut in, anger welling up in his gut.

"Calm. Down." Regina actually laughed, reaching out and pressing a hand against Jefferson's chest to keep him at arm's length. "I said that husbands used it on their brides, not that this is a wedding." She raised an eyebrow and looked to Killian. "Though perhaps that would have been a more fitting punishment."

"I overreacted." Obviously embarrassed, Jefferson retreated to where he'd been sitting before. "Sorry."

The pirate grunted in agreement. Cracking his neck, he looked at Jefferson. "So how far away can I get from the hatter?"

"My name is Jefferson." The man in question said firmly.

"You'll know when you've gone too far." Regina said simply, picking both glasses back up and going back toward the kitchen. She paused in the doorway and looked over her shoulder. "Now get out of my house. All of you."

Jefferson didn't hesitate. "Come on." He muttered to Killian, who stood and stretched.

"I'll see you ladies later." He promised, not bothering to acknowledge Charming as he exited the mayor's house with his new roommate. "Where's your carriage?"

"My car is back in town. We're walking. I don't want to spend another car ride with any of them."

"We're at least agreed on that." Killian looked around, his hands in the pockets of the jeans that Jefferson had lent him. He missed his coat, but Storybrooke fashion was at least comfortable.

"…I really hate this." Jefferson added.

"Me, too." Laughing, Killian glanced up at the night sky. "…but there's nothing to do but lay back and see what happens."

"I'm glad that you're taking it so seriously." Jefferson sighed and adjusted the scarf around his neck. "It should only take us ten minutes or so to get to the car."

"That's fine. I don't mind walking after being hung up by Regina's spell for so long."

Jefferson mumbled in agreement and fell silent.

Not wanting to push his luck, the pirate didn't say anything else and they reached the car without any problems.

"Don't forget to buckle your seatbelt." Jefferson finally spoke once they were both in the car.

"Of course. Safety first." Killian chuckled, snapping the buckle into place.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Jefferson began the somewhat long drive back to his home, and his daughter.

Nearly the whole journey passed in silence, until Killian spoke as they pulled into the driveway.

"I meant what I said." He looked at his new roommate, sincere. "I'm not going to hurt your daughter."

"I know." Jefferson met the other man's gaze, equally serious. "…because if you so much as tried, it would be the last thing you ever did."

"So it seems that we're agreed."

"So it does." Jefferson agreed, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car, closing the door perhaps more loudly than he needed to. Killian was quick to follow. "You can have my room again tonight. We'll figure out where you're going to stay tomorrow."

"If that's what you want." Killian was unable to suppress a yawn at the idea of going to bed. "Aren't you hungry?"

Jefferson stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "No." He replied quietly.

"Of course not. You feel too guilty to be hungry." Killian chuckled and crossed his arms. "Lovely. It just means that there's more for me."

"Just get yourself fed and get out of my way." Looking as emotionally exhausted as he probably felt, Jefferson let himself in. "I need to go talk to my daughter. Do what you want. Within reason." He added the last two words as an afterthought.

"Fine." Killian agreed, closing the door behind him and watching Jefferson walk away from him. Once he heard the door to Grace's bedroom shut, he made his way to the kitchen and not really caring what he found to eat as long as it was fast and filling. Not bothering to undress, he made his way to Jefferson's bedroom and got into bed.

It was only after burying his face in the pillows that he realized the bed smelled like Cora's perfume.


	10. The Relapse of a Madman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian and Jefferson remember their night with Cora very differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that I haven’t updated in awhile! I did a semester abroad and didn’t really have time for fanfiction. I’m hoping to wrap this up within a few months! This chapter isn’t very good and I’m sorry for that—lots of necessary filler. Also, quick warning: there’s references/descriptions of rape and a scene of someone getting triggered this chapter. And thanks so much for your reviews--you really prompted me to keep working on this! : D

“Get up.” A voice that Killian was sure would quickly grow irritating roused him from sleep.

“No.” The pirate’s memories, while he was still half-asleep, were somewhat hazy. He wanted to keep them that way. Rolling over, he pulled the pillow over his head and inhaled, engulfed by Cora’s perfume.

Shit.

Right.

Cora.

So much for hazy.

“Yes.” Jefferson growled, pulling the pillow away and tossing it to the other side of the bed. “It’s nearly noon. You can’t be that tired.”

“You try being bound up by her highness’ magic for an afternoon. See how you feel about it.” A low grumbling in his stomach prompted him to finally turn onto his back and sit up, running a hand through his hair.

“You slept in your clothes.” Jefferson observed, but then paused. “…my clothes.”

“I was tired.” Killian shrugged, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “And now I’m hungry.”

“We can eat in town.” Jefferson turned to the full-length mirror on the back of his door and adjusted the scarf around his neck.

“We’re going back so soon after our wonderful trial? Pray tell what madness has gripped you today.” Stifling a yawn, the pirate stood and stretched, his back cracking as he leaned forward to try and touch his toes.

“You can’t keep borrowing my clothes. You need your own.” Jefferson explained, keeping his sentences simple and short.

“And why’s that? You seem to have enough clothing to dress an entire kingdom.” Killian pulled the shirt that Jefferson had lent him over his head. It was true: his new housemate’s closet was of a size fit for a queen, not a hatter.

“We’ll leave after we’ve eaten and you’ve taken a shower.” Looking pointedly away from the pirate, Jefferson crossed his arms.

“I don’t need to bathe.”

“You’re filthy.” The hatter countered. “Do you remember how to use the shower?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We’re leaving in twenty minutes, so be ready.” Jefferson muttered, making a quick exit and leaving Killian alone. He glanced around the bedroom once or twice. It was one of the last places he’d been with Cora, and he doubted that he’d spend another night there.

Jefferson surely wanted ownership of his chambers back. A shame. A frown crossing his face, Hook looked down at the bed, seeing a stray hair that could only be from Cora peeking out from underneath one of the pillows.

The hatter had been, in Killian’s opinion, all too ungrateful for the time he’d spent with Cora in Storybrooke. The other man’s time in Wonderland had been torture, Killian knew. After all, he’d seen it firsthand.

But their last night together? Jefferson hadn’t even tried to touch the Queen of Hearts. His arms had remained at his sides, hands gripping the sheets. He’d only even looked at Cora when she’d forced him to.

Killian couldn’t comprehend such unresponsiveness. Jefferson had been in bed with the most powerful—brutal, beautiful, wonderful—woman in all of the worlds. He should have been grateful for the opportunity to be in her cunt, something that the pirate had unfortunately never had the time to experience.

The hatter was a coward. He hadn’t deserved that.

If nothing else, he should have at least tried to retaliate against Cora for the injustices that she’d done him in Wonderland. He’d had plenty of time to plot revenge, mad as he was.

As he mulled over his new housemate, Killian made his way to the nearest bathroom and stripped down. It took him a moment to remember how to work the spigot, but soon a stream of hot water was cascading down his bare back.

He quite liked the water in this world. Indoor waterfalls at the command of any who wished it! Delightful.

Closing his eyes as he lathered soap onto his chest, he let his mind yet again wander to his last night with Cora. Really, it was better that Jefferson had been so quiet. It had given Killian more time with her. He could still remember how it felt to have her breasts in his hands, the curve of her back pressed to his chest as she moved over the hatter.

His cock stirred at the thought of it, and he let out a moan as he remembered what it had felt like to be snugly pressed against her backside. Abandoning the soap, he let his hand drift down. After all that he’d been through in the last few days, he deserved a few minutes of leisure.

“Cora…” He murmured, biting down hard on his lower lip in an attempt to remember what her kisses had felt like. Harsh. Demanding. There was no other woman like that in the world. Maybe Regina. Maybe not.

There was only Cora.

Regina wasn’t her mother. If Regina was really like Cora, the crocodile would be dead and Cora would be alive. Hook would be happy. He could go home.

He’d buried his face in her neck at some point, after she’d turned around to face him. Lost himself in her scent. All the while she’d continued to ride Jefferson, using the other man’s cock and painfully neglecting the captain’s. He’d had to make due with the way that his cock moved against her stomach as she mercilessly took the hatter.

At some point, one of his hands had moved to Jefferson’s ribcage and squeezed, trying to gain leverage as he grew closer to finishing. Jefferson had actually made a noise then. He’d let out a ragged gasp; his eyes squeezed shut and his body tense.

It hadn’t taken long after that. Hook finished, and Cora moved off of Jefferson so that she could pull Hook’s face down between her legs. He still remembered how she tasted.

In the present, Hook leaned back against the wall of the shower and furiously moved his hand, wanting nothing more than to have his mouth between Cora’s thighs where it belonged.

With a shudder and an appreciative groan, he came. As he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, he realized that Jefferson had still been hard when Cora had dismounted. He didn’t recall the other man ever finishing at all.

The hatter truly was mad if he’d passed up such an opportunity.

Cora had given Jefferson’s backside a hard slap when he’d turned away, and every time after. It was only now, days later, that Killian realized she’d been making him watch.

He was going to miss that woman.

By the time that Killian made it down to the kitchen, there was a plate at the table for him and Jefferson was doing the dishes. Grace was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s your daughter?” He asked, starting to make quick work of his eggs and pancakes.

“On her way to school.” Jefferson explained. “She left while you were in the shower.” He paused. “You were in the shower an awful long time. We need to leave.”

“What’s the rush? Neither of us are going anywhere without the other.” Killian pointed out, draining his orange juice.

“I want my clothes back.” Jefferson said, and the pirate laughed in response. His housemate was being incredibly cold. Killian understood that their predicament wouldn’t sit well with him, but he’d thought that at the very least Cora’s death might bring a smile to the hatter’s face.

“You’re so fixated on that! Why not let me back into my clothes?”

“You need more than your raggedy old coat.” Jefferson said curtly. “And you need to learn how to fit in here.”

“I rather like standing out.” Killian smirked and pushed his empty plate forward, only realizing how hungry he’d been once he finished. “But now that we’re living together, I suppose that I’m open to compromise.”

“Fantastic.” Jefferson’s voice was dry. “C’mon.”

Content to follow, Killian stood and walked out the door with the hatter. For the moment, he knew that it would be best to play along with whatever Jefferson had in store for their first few days together. Trust was key.

He had to let Jefferson relax before trying anything else. It had taken long enough to find the crocodile: he could wait another few weeks if that’s what it took. Killian was a pirate, yes—but he wasn’t stupid.

xxx

The pirate was being cooperative. Suspiciously cooperative. Jefferson was determined not to let his guard down, despite the week that he’d had. Even though Cora was gone for good, he still found his hands shaking whenever he thought about her. He’d never be able to sleep in his bed again—even waking up the pirate had brought him to the edge of a breakdown. He was considering letting Killian stay there.

After returning home the night before, he hadn’t been sure that it was safe to have Grace in the house while the pirate remained there. It had taken a strong cup of tea and sitting by his daughter’s bedside to remember that the pirate was, unfortunately, not going anywhere.

This was the hand that he’d been dealt by the Queen of Hearts.

Cora was finally dead. The thought never stayed in his head for long, because he could hardly believe it. He’d thought that she was gone before, but she’d come back. His heart started to beat faster and he gripped the steering wheel hard as he remembered the last night that he’d spent with her.

She’d pushed him down onto the mattress and forced him into arousal, the movements of her hand painful as it worked him up. He hadn’t felt that used in a long time, or that frightened. He’d even forgot about protecting Grace for a few minutes, and considered trying to run.

At one point, the pirate had grabbed him, and Jefferson had been terrified that some kind of new torture was going to follow. His luck had turned after that and Cora had abandoned his cock for Hook’s mouth.

She’d hit him when he tried to look away, but watching Hook’s eager ministrations had been much better than having to feel the two of them move on top of him. Even once it was over, he hadn’t been able to relax, only daring to get out of bed when the sun came up.

He wasn’t afraid of Hook like he’d been afraid of Cora, but he was worried about Grace. Even if the pirate kept his promise and didn’t harm her, the pirate wasn’t going to be a good influence. Grace was growing up, but she wasn’t an adult. He’d just have to keep an eye on them both.

“Are you at least going to talk to me?”

Torn away from his thoughts, Jefferson frowned and glanced over at the other man. “To be fair, you haven’t been very conversational yourself.”

“True.” Killian leaned his head out of the car window slightly, evidently still interested in how cars functioned. Jefferson didn’t bother telling him to be careful. If the pirate got himself killed doing something so mundane, it would make Jefferson’s life a hell of a lot easier. No complaints. “Is it much further?”

“No. Less than ten minutes.” Jefferson sighed and relaxed his hold on the steering wheel. Becoming enemies with the man he had to share his home with wouldn’t solve anything. At least if they were friendly, there might be fewer problems.

At least, that was what Jefferson hoped. It was for the sake of getting along that he said nothing as Killian rolled the window up and down over and over and over. He could only hope that the pirate adjusted quickly to a world with electricity.

“We can decide where you’re going to stay when we get back.” The more that he thought about it, the less that he wanted his room back. There was a constant tightness in his chest whenever he thought of Cora. The last thing he needed was to sleep where she’d…where she’d…he didn’t even know what to call it. All he knew was that he needed to stop thinking about it, but he couldn’t.

“Fine.” Hook sighed dramatically and moved so that he was slouching in the passenger’s seat. “I don’t suppose that you’d be willing to visit my ship while we’re in town?”

“Your ship?” Jefferson had forgotten. “…of course. We can go there first if you’d like. I can’t imagine the Charmings would object to you having your things.”

“Splendid.” It seemed like Hook was satisfied for the moment. He was quiet, at any rate.

“If I park at the harbor can you find it?” Jefferson asked once they were in a block of the parking lot.

“Are you really asking me if I can find my own ship?” Hook cocked an eyebrow, and Jefferson rolled his eyes in response. They were parked two minutes later.

As they began to walk, their pace and silence were both comfortable. It was only when the ship came into view that Hook became agitated.

“What’s wrong?” Jefferson asked, brow furrowing. “Is something wrong with your ship?”

“She’s supposed to be invisible, for one thing—“ Hook crained his neck. “—and there are NOT supposed to be Charmings crawling over her.” The two men approached the ship at a brisk walk, Hook’s anger visibly growing with each step that they took. “Get off of my ship!”

“Maybe don’t make them angry.” Jefferson suggested, hands in the pockets of his trench coat as he sped up to keep up with the pirate.

“They’ve made me angry!” Killian growled. “They’re trespassing on my ship.”

Mr. Charming himself walked down the dock to meet them.

“Why are you on my ship?” Killian demanded before the prince could say anything.

“Why do you think?” Charming asked, standing tall in front of the two other men, almost as if to intimidate them. Jefferson inwardly groaned. He didn’t want to witness Charming and the pirate dueling for masculinity—he just wanted to have a nice, quiet life with his daughter. Far away from pirates and the Queen of Hearts’ memory. “After that you did, I wouldn’t trust your ship as far as I could throw it.”

“I think that’s a fair point.” Jefferson remarked, Side eyeing Hook and wondering if the pirate was going to lose his temper. “You did try to kill the savior, after all.”

“I did not. Cora did! I want to kill Rumpelstiltskin. I’ve no intention of harming anyone else in this town.”

“Cora who you were working for!” Charming retorted. “I’d say that I’m sorry to say this, but I’m not. You’re not allowed back on that ship until we’re done searching it.”

At the queen’s name, Jefferson tensed, his heart pounding. Cora moving on top of him. Killian’s fingernails digging into his ribcage as he fought for more friction. His own eyes squeezed shut as he tried to forget where he was and what was happening to him. Cora’s lips on his.

“That’s ridiculous! How dangerous can I be with this at my heels?” Killian snapped, giving Jefferson a harmless clap on the back.

“Don’t touch me!” Jefferson immediately recoiled. He was unaware that he’d shouted; that his hands were shaking; that the other two men were staring.

“Something wrong, mate?”

Jefferson saw Killian’s lips move, but he couldn’t hear him. All that he could hear—and see, and feel—was Cora. The madness that he’d tried to leave behind in Wonderland was pounding behind his eyes.

In a moment of semi-clarity, he realized that as long as Killian was near, he would never be truly free of Cora. He was going to have to remember her forever.

“Jefferson, what’s—“

Forever.

He was going to have to remember her forever.

Unable to handle Cora’s memory, the Mad Hatter started to laugh.

“Snap out of it!” Charming was shaking him, but that didn’t matter. He couldn’t stop. 

xxx

 

It seemed that Killian had been a fool to think that the hatter was no longer mad. Out of nowhere, the other man had broken down. In fact, his keeper didn’t even look like Jefferson—all that the pirate could see was the Mad Hatter he’d met in Wonderland.

“What the hell’s wrong with him?” Charming asked, looking to Killian as if the pirate could help.

“How would I know that?” An eyebrow cocked, he met the prince’s gaze.

Muttering something incoherent and not letting go of Jefferson’s arm—Charming apparently didn’t trust the other man not to bolt—he started pulling him away from the ship and toward the parking lot.

“And just where are we going?” Killian asked, glancing longingly back at his ship as he turned to follow the prince.

“The hospital.”


	11. The Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson wakes up in a hospital bed with Doctor Whale and ends up in a closet with Captain Hook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: victim-blaming & indirect references to rape. Also there is finally MadHook.

Jefferson didn’t remember falling asleep. When his eyes opened, it took him a few moments to register that he was awake at all. His limbs were heavy, and he felt incredibly groggy. He thought back, and briefly remembered the docks. 

The blurry shapes in front of him began to come into focus, and he found himself looking at a familiar face.

“Victor.” Jefferson croaked, attempting to raise one of his arms but soon deciding that it wasn’t worth it. “What?...” Why was he in the hospital?

“An anxiety attack.” Dr. Frankenstein explained. “We sedated you.”

“That seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?” Jefferson asked, the words coming to him more easily as he continued to adjust to the waking world. 

Victor shrugged.

“…you weren’t yourself.” He paused, and looked carefully at Jefferson. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I…not really.” Jefferson admitted, biting his lip and glancing away from the other man. “I remember being at the docks with David and Killian. After that…” He remembered being incredibly frightened, but what had brought on the fear? After a few moments of searching, he remembered her name.

Of course.

“I don’t need to be here.” He said shortly, ripping the IV from his arm and sitting up. “This was a mistake. I was being st—“

“No.” Victor pushed him back down. “Jefferson. Has this happened before?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jefferson seethed, pushing back against the doctor’s chest.

“It _does._ ” Victor said firmly. “It’s not just you anymore, Jefferson. What if this had happened in front of Grace?”

That stopped Jefferson in his tracks, and he went limp against the mattress.

After finding Grace, he’d been okay. She had been all that mattered, and he hadn’t let his past get in the way of taking care of her. This was the first time that he’d lost control since Grace had moved in with him, and it had been because of Cora.

It was Cora’s fault for coming back. Regina’s fault for making sure that he couldn’t get rid of the pirate. The pirate’s fault for brining back Cora’s memory every five minutes. Wait.

The pirate. Tensing, Jefferson slowly looked from side to side. No sign of Killian. Heat rushed to his face. He couldn’t believe that he’d lost control in front of Captain Hook. He was certain that the other man wouldn’t let any sign of weakness go unnoticed.

“The pirate’s just outside.” Victor explained, letting go of Jefferson once it was clear that the hatter wasn’t going anywhere. “I didn’t think he needed to be here. Was I wrong?”

“No.” Jefferson sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, quickly settling back into a drug-induced calm. “To answer your question, this _used_ to happen.” He chose his words carefully. “It’s not my fault.” He added, locking gazes with Victor. “Cora did this to me.”

“She’s dead.” Victor pointed out as he took Jefferson’s arm to reinsert the IV. “I don’t know what she did to you in Wonderland, but it’s been quite some time since you were there.”

If only it was that simple. If Cora hadn’t taken him to bed in his own home, then maybe adjusting after her death would have been easy. Unfortunately for Jefferson, he was going to be stuck with her memory forever: Killian wasn’t going anywhere, and Killian had been Cora’s. 

“You aren’t saying anything.” The doctor frowned and stood.

“I’m fine. It’s not going to happen again.” Jefferson looked pointedly away from Whale, instead choosing to focus on the wall.

“Are you sure?” Victor said critically, and Jefferson was suddenly very irritated that the best doctor in Storybrooke was someone he’d briefly called a friend. He would have preferred someone anonymous. “Because according to David, all it took was saying her name a few times to turn you mad.”

Jefferson said nothing, his mouth drawn into a deep frown. Victor was making him think about her, and he didn’t like that. He just wanted to forget. That was what he’d wanted, after all—it was what he’d asked of Regina. He just wanted a brand new life with Grace, but now that the curse was broken that was something he would never be have.

“You aren’t the same man at all, Jefferson.” Victor actually laughed a little. “Not that I am, of course…but I don’t think that I can remember seeing you smile in Storybrooke. Not like you used to.”

“I’m a parent.” Jefferson grumbled. “I have responsibility.”

“It’s more than that.” Victor frowned. “Can I be honest with you?” 

“I don’t think my opinion matters.” 

“I don’t think that I’m the doctor you should be seeing.” Victor was looking at him with sad eyes. Judging eyes. Jefferson considered turning away altogether. Putting his hands over his ears and shutting him out.

“Then _please_ send in someone else.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Victor pulled a notepad from his lab coat and started to scribble. “You need to talk to someone. I’m sending you to Dr. Hopper.”

“You can’t do that.” Jefferson sat up. The movement was too abrupt, and he found his head spinning. That didn’t matter. “The curse is broken—we don’t have to follow this world’s laws any longer. You can’t send me anywhere.” 

“Yes I can.” Whale retorted. “Maybe not as your doctor, but at least as your friend.”

“We’re not friends.” Spat Jefferson. “A long time ago, maybe—but not now.”

“You’re right in a way. Like I said before, you’re not at all the man that I first met.” Whale paused. “…but you were, once. Besides,” He was obviously choosing his words carefully. “…you say that you’re fine, but what if this _did_ happen in front of Grace? If seeing Hopper could stop that, why not give it a try?” 

“I’m already a prisoner in my own home so long as I’m forced to live with the pirate. Why not add to that?” Jefferson consented with a sardonic laugh. “…at least seeing the cricket would get me away from him for a few minutes.” 

“Thank you.” Whale gave Jefferson’s shoulder a pat. “I’d like you to stay here until the drugs wear off,”

“How long is that going to take?”

“An hour. Maybe two. You need the rest—you don’t look like you’ve been sleeping.”

Jefferson let out a hollow laugh, and his memory briefly drifted to laying awake next to Killian and and Cora. 

“I haven’t been.”

Silence. 

“If you’d like, I could send for Hopper now. It would give you something to do while you wait.”

 

“Fine.” Jefferson relented, knowing that his fate was sealed. “Send the good doctor in.”

 

xxx

 

 

“Well? What’s your diagnosis?” Hook asked, standing as Whale exited the room where he’d taken the hatter a few hours before. “Has he gone completely mad?”

 

“No.” The doctor replied, tucking a notepad into his lab coat. “He’s fine. That’s really all I can tell you.” 

“Does his daughter know what happened?” Killian asked, thinking back to Grace and wondering whether or not she was out of school yet. “Has anyone told her?”

“I—“ Whale’s brow furrowed, and Killian laughed. Were the people of Storybrooke really that incompetent? It was a wonder that Cora failed. “I’m on my way to do that now.”

“Right.” Laughing, the pirate watched the doctor scurry off down the hall. Turning his attention to the door that separated him from Jefferson, he crossed his arms and thought back to the docks. 

Whatever it was that had happened to Jefferson, it had been sudden and without warning. He’d given the hatter a pat on the back, but there was no way that had been enough to make the other man spiral out of control.

Whale was gone. Killian supposed that there was nothing stopping him from asking Jefferson directly. After looking around to make sure that he wasn’t being watched, Killian slipped through the door.

“You look better.” He observed, sitting down in one of the chairs next to the hatter’s hospital bed.

“I’m fine.” Jefferson replied, arms crossed loosely in his lap as he sat up to greet the other man. “I apologize for earlier. It shouldn’t have happened.

“But why did it?” Killian asked, leaning back and cocking an eyebrow. “It can’t have been that you were distraught over Charming keeping me from my ship. If it was, then I’m touched.”

“It wasn’t that.” A moment of silence, and Jefferson’s gaze hardened. “I don’t like you.”

“You wound me.” 

“You don’t care for me, either.” 

“I barely know you.” Killian teased, wondering what exactly the hatter’s point was.

“…but we need to get along if we ever want Regina to break the spell she cast.” It was clear that Jefferson was taking care with his words, and Hook understood why. This was a conversation that they needed to have—maybe one that they should have had earlier. “That doesn’t mean that we have to trust one another—I absolutely _do not_ trust you—but it does mean that we have to at least pretend to respect one another.” 

“Fair enough.” The pirate consented with a nod. “And the point of your lovely little speech?...”

“Don’t talk about her.” Jefferson said flatly. “Not in front of me—or Grace. Just don’t.” 

Killian was actually surprised, and it showed in his face. 

“Is that why you went crazy?” He asked, barely holding back a laugh. “Because we were talking about Cora?”

Silence. Jefferson’s face turned red, and he looked away.

“You have to know how pathetic that is.” Killian kept his eyes trained on Jefferson. “It’s been years since you were in Wonderland, and all she did here was blackmail you.”

“You know that’s not all that she did!” Jefferson snapped, anger flooding his face as he leaned toward Killian.

“You mean threatening to hurt Grace?” Killian thought carefully. Cora really hadn’t done more than that. Unless…

The pirate’s eyes widened.

“Don’t tell me that sleeping with Cora drove you mad.” Silence was his answer, and Killian leaned further forward. “Tell me you’re not serious.”

“Get out.”

“You realize that she’s probably best you’ll ever have, don’t you?” Killian asked, not willing to drop the subject. He refused to believe that Jefferson had really been so against the sex. He understood that the hatter hated Cora. He didn’t blame him for that.

But Jefferson was a man like any other. There was no way that he hadn’t liked the sex.

“Get out!” Jefferson’s voice rose, and Killian smirked.

“It’s not as if you were a blushing maid, mate.” He pointed out. “You have a daughter. You knew what you were doing.”

“Get out.”

“…is that why I bother you so much?” Killian continued, moving so that he was leaning over Jefferson. “Because I was there?”

He could still remember what the other man felt like underneath him. What Cora felt like between them. A glimpse of Jefferson’s bruised backside as he pulled his trousers on the next morning. Something that he’d failed to consider since Cora’s death was that Jefferson was one of the only other people who knew Cora _intimately_.

It was a connection to the Queen of Hearts that he couldn’t believe he overlooked.

“You need to go.” Jefferson looked tense, but he wasn’t pushing Killian away.

“If those memories of me are really such a burden, then why not create new ones?”

He was distinctly aware of Jefferson’s face. The scar on his neck. His eyelashes.

Captain Hook had bedded his fair share of women, but he’d never considered taking a man to bed outside of the night he’d spent with Cora and Jefferson. Now, the thought of feeling at all close to Cora trumped any preconceived ideas against being with another man.

They stayed like that for a moment or two, studying one another. Too close for comfort. Not close enough for comfort.

Jefferson tilted his chin up slightly, and Hook decided that the time was right to strike.

 

xxx

 

Killian was close. Too close. He could see every detail in the other man’s eyes. No one had been quite this close to him since his last night with Cora.

Maybe Hook did have a point. If he didn’t want to risk spiraling into a panic around Hook, there would be nothing wrong with making some better memories. But that didn’t mean that he was going to kiss him—except that he already was.

While Jefferson’s thoughts had been racing, Killian had been on the move and before Jefferson knew what he was doing, one of his hands was tangled in the pirate’s dark hair and the other man was shifting so that they were both on the narrow hospital bed.

It wasn’t like kissing a woman. Not even Cora.

A moan rising in the back of his throat, he opened his mouth against Killian’s and wrapped his other arm around the pirate’s waist. From his head to his toes, everything was too hot. The pounding his chest didn’t have anything to do with madness. Just desire. 

A desire to forget about Cora, and a desire to prove that he was in control of his own life.

By the time that he felt Hook’s lips on his neck, his own were swollen and the taste of rum (where had the pirate found rum in a hospital?) was on his lips.

“Not there—“ He started to say, but the protest turned into a low moan a moment later when he felt Hook’s mouth open against his throat.

“You wouldn’t be quite so mad if you relaxed every once in awhile.” The pirate whispered before starting to suck on the crook of Jefferson’s neck.

Another sound made its way forth, and Jefferson realized that he was half-hard. In the back of his mind, the part that wasn’t swept up in Hook’s teeth on his earlobe, he remembered that Hopper was probably on his way.

“Wait, wait—“ Jefferson pushed the pirate back. “We need to stop.”

“But we’ve only just gotten started.” The pirate objected, leaning down to try and kiss the hatter again.  
  
“The doctor is going to come back.” Jefferson pushed Hook away, realizing that he was still (thankfully) in his clothes. Pulling out the IV again and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he grabbed his jacket from one of the chairs and shrugged it on. “We’re leaving.”

“Is that so?” Hook asked, evidently pleased, his hand rubbing between his legs. “And where are we going?”

Jefferson thought for a moment. He could only assume that his car was still in the harbor. “I don’t know. Not here.”

“Fair enough.” Killian laughed and watched Jefferson pull on his shoes. “Hurry up, or I’ll finish without you.”

It was at that moment that Jefferson realized he wasn’t just going to kiss the captain: he was going to fuck him.

“You listen to me.” Jefferson grabbed Killian by the front of his coat and pulled him close so that their foreheads were touching. “If this is going to happen, then I give the orders. Not you, _Captain Jones_.” He breathed out.

“I think I like you better this way.” The pirate replied, grabbing Jefferson’s hips and pulling him close. Jefferson could feel the other man’s arousal against his thigh, and chose not to acknowledge what the thought of another man’s cock was doing to him. 

“Come with me.” Jefferson muttered after a few more bruising kisses that he just couldn’t resist.

Holding onto Killian’s wrist, he led the pirate out of the small room where he’d woken up. Looking around, he looked for a place to hide. It didn’t look like there were any restrooms nearby. Another hospital room was too risky.

That was when he saw the closet.

It wasn’t even a medical supply closet. Pulling the door open, Jefferson saw that it was mostly empty except for a broom and a few bottles of bleach and window cleaner. That didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that there was enough room to shag Hook.

“Come on.” Jefferson led the other man in and closed the door, immediately pulling the hard on the front of Hook’s jacket and opening his mouth against the other man’s.

“Very romantic.” Killian whispered between kisses, his back hitting the wall of the narrow space.

“I like it more when you keep your mouth shut.” Jefferson muttered, biting down hard on Killian’s neck a moment later. 

“I think you’re lying.” Killian whispered, his hand reaching down to give Jefferson’s ass a hard squeeze, pulling the hatter forward so that their hips were flush. 

Jefferson stifled a moan, and realized how hard he was. Reaching down, he undid his trousers in a hurry and pushed them down so that they pooled at his ankles. Not giving himself time to hesitate, he did the same for the pirate.

Seeing the other man’s cock made him pause. He couldn’t remember coming face to face with it when they’d spent the night with Cora. Wondering why Hook wasn’t making a snide remark, Jefferson glanced Killian. In the dim light of the closet, he realized that the pirate was also staring.

He thought about telling Killian that he was right, that Jefferson did prefer him with his mouth open. That he wanted Killian’s mouth on his cock. Sucking and gagging and _begging_ , and—

Jefferson swallowed hard. There wasn’t time for that. Grabbing Hook again, he shoved his tongue into the other man’s mouth and desperately ground his hips forward, one of his hands finding anchorage on Hook’s ass while the other stayed in his hair.

Killian’s hand was still squeezing hard, his hook dug into the wall behind them.

The pirate’s mouth on his was the only thing to muffle the sounds that they were both making as their hips rocked together. Their movements were frenzied, but Jefferson didn’t feel mad at all.

All that mattered was that he didn’t stop moving against the pirate, kept the friction from stopping, made sure to give the other man’s ass another slap so that he would make _that_ noise again, and— 

And then his stomach was warm and wet, and Killian was biting down hard enough on his bottom lip to draw blood, and Jefferson realized that the other man had finished.

For a few moments they stared at each other, flushed and panting. Jefferson wanted to make a crack about how he’d thought the pirate would last longer, but he didn’t. Instead, he said what he’d held back minutes before.

“You’re right. I think I do like you better with your mouth open.” He whispered, pulling down lightly on the front of Killian’s shirt.

Still breathing hard, the pirate looked him over carefully for a moment, and then flashed a smile.

“I suppose I do owe you for breakfast.” He drawled, sinking down to his knees and taking Jefferson’s cock into his mouth.

Unable to suppress the moan that tore itself from his throat, Jefferson braced his hands against the closet wall and watched Killian suck.

It was clear that the pirate had never had a cock in his mouth before, but neither had Jefferson, so he wasn’t about to judge. It had been years and years since something had done this for him—he didn’t care how adept Killian was at it. All that mattered was that Captain Hook’s lips were wrapped around his cock, and the hatter was fucking his mouth as best he could considering how little the pirate could take without gagging.

“Fuck.” Jefferson grunted, fingers twisting in Hook’s mouth as the other man moved his head. Low, guttural, wet sounds filled the closet. Jefferson would have been louder, but didn’t dare. They were still, after all, in the hospital. 

He let his mind wander to what it would feel like to be between Killian’s legs instead of in his mouth. Fucking the pirate on his own ship. Maybe even on the deck, Killian bent over the railing with his ass in the air, and—“ _Fuck_.”

The next few minutes were a haze of the hot, wet heat that Hook’s mouth offered. When Jefferson finally came, he didn’t bother to give the pirate warning. All that he could do was moan and shudder and let himself be overwhelmed. 

Pulling back and coughing, Killian spit on the floor and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“You could’ve warned me, mate.” He muttered, though he didn’t look angry. Looking up at Jefferson, he coughed again and rubbed his throat. “I changed my mind. That was worth more than breakfast.”

“Alright.” Jefferson agreed, breathing staggered as he pulled the other man to his feet. “Is my car still in the harbor?”

“I’m afraid so.” 

“Think that we can sneak past Whale and get out of here in time to find the car and go home before dinner?”

“Aye. After what just happened, I’d say anything is possible.”

They both laughed, and Jefferson considered that maybe the absolute clarity he was feeling was actually just a new state of madness. 


	12. The Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Car sex is really awkward.

Jefferson’s cell was buzzing in his back pocket by the time that they got to the harbor. He only answered so that Whale wouldn’t send someone to his house. God forbid he receive a visit from Sheriff Swan.

He was going to be fine. Spending a few hours in the hospital didn’t make him crazy. 

“I had to leave.” He said flatly, pausing next to his car, keys in hand.

“You were supposed to see Dr. Hopper.” Came Whale’s response. The doctor wasn’t happy.

“I’m sorry—I just had to go. Hopper can call me to set up an appointment tomorrow. I just couldn’t stay in the hospit—“ Jefferson’s voice rose and he pushed back hard against Killian, who had started to kiss the back of his neck.

“Hurry up, mate—I’d like to pick up where we left off.” Whispered the pirate, his hand reaching down between Jefferson’s legs and squeezing.

Grunting, Jefferson pushed him away.

“Jefferson?” Whale asked. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine—it’s just the pirate.” Muttered Jefferson. “Have Hopper call me. I’m fine.” He hung up, pocketed the phone, and pushed Hook down hard against the side of his car. “What are you doing?” He hissed. 

The sun was going down, but that didn’t mean that someone wasn’t going to catch them.

“There’s no one here.” Killian pointed out, looking around the harbor. “…and now that we’ve found a way to withstand one another’s company, I see no reason to stop exploiting it.”

“I need to get home and make Grace dinner.” Jefferson pointed out, though he didn’t resist when the pirate pulled him forward and started kissing down his throat. “I don’t have time for— _oh_ ”

“I have a better suggestion. Grace can make herself something in the mirror-wave, and  _you_  can be  _my_  dinner.” Killian whispered.

“It’s  _microwave_.” Jefferson corrected the pirate even as he leaned in and pressed their lips together. As long as Killian kept touching him, it was easy to forget what a mistake he was making. He assumed that the pirate felt the same. Coming to his senses, he forced himself to pull back after another few minutes. “Get in the car.”

Pulling away from the pirate, he got into the driver’s seat and started the ignition. “We can continue this…we can…” He bit his lip. “I need to make sure that Grace is okay.”

“Fine, fine. Fatherhood first. I understand.” Sighing dramatically, Killian slid into the passenger’s seat and made himself comfortable.

“Good.” Trying to will away his arousal, Jefferson started to drive, feeling his anxiety ebb as they moved further from the town center. He needed to make sure that Grace didn’t think something was wrong.

After that, he didn’t know exactly what was going to happen; only that it would involve Hook’s lips and his cock and—no. He was driving.

“By the w—“ Jefferson glanced over, and nearly went off the road. “The hell are you doing?” He demanded.

“You weren’t helping.” Killian pointed out. While Jefferson had been driving, the pirate had evidently thought it appropriate to get his cock out. Even when Jefferson almost swerved off the road, his hand didn’t stop moving. “I wasn’t going to stop on your account.”

“I’m driving!” Jefferson snapped. “You can’t—can’t just—“

“If you stopped the car, you could join me.” The other man pointed out, rubbing his thumb over the head of his cock. 

Jefferson still couldn’t wrap his head around how he’d gone from not wanting to get within a few feet of the pirate to having his cock in the other man’s mouth. However it  _had_  happened, and now his pants were starting to grow uncomfortably tight with every glance that he threw at Hook. 

“Fine!” He eventually snapped, flipping on his turn signal and pulling over. No one else used this road. It was private enough. At least, that was what Jefferson was telling himself as he fumbled with his cellphone and tried to ignore the throbbing between his legs. 

 He barely had time to call Grace and tell her to make herself dinner. Just as he hung up, Hook was leaning over and pulling him into a kiss. It was awkward to have the other man so close while he was still buckled in, and after a few minutes he pushed the pirate away. “Wait.” He muttered, managing to scramble into the backseat.

It took a few minutes of shifting and seat-adjusting, but eventually the two men ended up in the backseat, mouths plastered together and only coming up to breath.

Another few minutes into it, and Jefferson found himself on his back with Hook’s mouth on his neck. “Jes—dam—fuck—“ He whimpered, clutching desperately at the other man and squeezing his eyes shut. Not wanting to be outdone, he reached down and took Killian’s cock in his hand.

An especially angry bite to his throat made him whimper, and he found himself helplessly twisting his hips and wishing that his pants were undone. He was silenced in the next few moments when Killian’s mouth found his, and they lapsed into a frustrating and uncomfortable (the back of the car was too small for two full grown men) silence.

“Wait.” Killian whispered, his breath ghosting over Jefferson’s ear as he reached down to unbutton the other man’s pants.

“What?” Jefferson muttered, pulling the other man’s hips down hard as soon as they were both exposed. He still wasn’t sure exactly what the finer points of sleeping with another man were, but it wasn’t something that he wanted to dwell on.

“You should suck my cock.” Hook whispered, Jefferson’s earlobe slipping through his teeth.

“Excuse me?” Jefferson muttered, face flushing.

 

“It’s only fair.” The other man pointed out, grinding down hard against Jefferson. “And those lips of yours seem a waste if they’ve never sucked cock before.”

“I—I’ve never—” Redder than he’d ever been, Jefferson pushed Killian away and looked pointedly toward the roof of the car. “I’m not—I had a  _wife_ , I—“

“I’m not either, mate.” Hook laughed quietly, with an especially rough thrust against the other man. That friction alone would have been enough for Jefferson. And yet here we are.”

Jefferson swallowed hard, and thought about what it would feel like to have the captain’s cock in his mouth.

“Fine.” He consented, voice incredibly quiet, as if he was afraid that someone else was listening. “But not here. We need to get out of the car.”

“I can’t feel one of my legs.” Hook agreed, managing to get the door open.

They were both standing outside a few minutes later, an awkward silence in the air. Killian was leaning back against the car, cock in hand, while Jefferson stood in front of him with his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the other man’s crotch. 

“Well?” Killian asked, raising his hips slightly.

“Right.” Jefferson muttered, embarrassment flooding him when he realized that his mouth was watering. Getting to his knees—and hoping that his pants were going to come out of this unscathed—he swatted Killian’s hand away. “I…”

“Come on.” Killian’s hand was in his hair. “This is only fair.” 

The hatter grumbled something incoherent, and let the pirate’s arousal slip into his mouth. His hesitation didn’t stem from a reluctance to let the other man use his mouth. What he was really nervous about was how much he wanted it.

“Fuck, your  _lips_ …” Whispered Killian. 

Unable to speak, Jefferson pushed his tongue against the head of the other man’s cock, face screwing up at the taste. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was new, and a little overpowering. He considered pulling back, but remembered how eager the other man had bee in the hospital. 

Jefferson wasn’t about to be outdone.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t awkward, even if Jefferson was starting to enjoy the noises that Killian made every time that he sucked him down. Letting out an appreciative grunt of his own, he reached behind the pirate and gave his ass a hard squeeze. Thoughts of bending the pirate over flitted through his mind, and he nearly came.

Pulling back and panting hard, he squeezed the base of the other man’s cock hard and dug the fingernails of his other hand into the other man’s ass.

“What are you doing?” Killian groaned in frustrated, his grip on Jefferson’s hair painful.

Not saying anything, Jefferson rose to his feet and pushed Killian hard against the car, capturing his mouth in a rough kiss. “I have an idea.” He breathed out, heart pounding as he bit down on the other man’s lip.

“What?” The other man was clearly not in the mood to postpone, and it showed in his tone of voice

“What if I fucked you?” Jefferson whispered, heart pounding in his chest. 

The other man tensed for a moment, but then relaxed, his own hand moving down to Jefferson’s backside and giving it a gentle slap.

“We are fucking.” Hook said flatly. “Or we were, before you decided to stop.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Jefferson couldn’t get the idea of Captain Hook spread open and begging out of his head. He needed it. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m not doing that.” Hook spat. “Why would I?”

“Because you’ve been with Cora.” Thinking about her made Jefferson nervous, but he knew what being with the Queen of Hearts meant. He knew what Cora liked. “…and if you didn’t like it,” His fingers probed between Hook’s legs. “you wouldn’t have been so eager to jump back into bed with her.”

 

xxx

 

He wasn’t honestly sure how it had happened. He’d just wanted to fuck the Mad Hatter’s mouth until his throat was so sore he couldn’t talk, and those fucking  _lips_  of his were swollen and red. 

Instead, he was bent over the other man’s car. Jefferson’s weight was heavy against his back, his breath hot against Hook’s shoulder. The other man’s hand was between his legs, a liberal amount of an expensive moisturizer the other man kept in his car coating his fingers.

“Careful!” Hook hissed, hips jerking forward involuntarily as the other man’s fingers pushed in too fast. “If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” He added. 

“As if I would tell anyone about this!” Jefferson snapped back, his cock hard against Hook’s thigh. “If you want me to stop then I’ll stop, but if you want me to keep going then you need to _stop complaining_!” 

“If you’re doing a shit job, I’m going to tell you!” Killian retorted. Squeezing his eyes shut, he thought back to when Cora had bent him over the railing of his ship. Letting out a quiet moan, he forced himself to relax and pushed back against the hatter’s fingers.

“I’m putting in another.” Jefferson muttered, and Hook felt more pressure between his legs. It hurt. The lotion was expensive just like everything else the hatter owned, and it was doing what it was supposed to, but Hook had only ever done this once before and pain was inevitable. 

The whole thing was awkward. Hook was bent over the hood of Jefferson’s car, his boots dug into the dead foliage around where the other man hard parked. His thighs were already starting to go a little numb from the cold car and the awkward angle, but he wasn’t about to ask the other man to stop.

Jefferson started to spread his fingers, and the captain nearly slammed his hook into the car’s aluminum surface. “Tell me before you do that!”

“You’re so fussy.” Jefferson huffed, a third finger pushing into Hook. Squirming, the pirate clenched and buried his face in the crook of his bad arm.  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You couldn’t if you tried.” Hook muttered, a low and appreciative moan building in his throat as his body started to adjust to the other man’s long, surprisingly adept fingers. Hook supposed that Jefferson did a lot of work with his hands. He was bound to be good at this. 

They lapsed into wordlessness, their collective groaning and painting the only verbal communication that they needed.

Hook found that after a certain point, he didn’t mind the fingers at all. Jefferson’s were bigger than Cora’s, but the hatter was being much more thorough than the Queen of Hearts had been. In an embarrassing, but arousing, moment he that Jefferson’s fingers weren’t enough.

He told the hatter what he wanted, his words coming out rushed. 

“What?” Jefferson asked, his hand stilling. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck me.” Hook muttered, face still hidden in his elbow. “ _Now_.”

The other man let out a sound that shook Hook from his head to his toes. The other man’s fingers were gone a moment later. He felt Jefferson spread more lotion between his legs—the amount much more generous than the oil Cora had used—and then for a few moments, Jefferson wasn’t touching him at all.

“Justfuckingputitin.” He grumbled, trying not to think of how he must look with his ass in the air in front of the hatter. Instead, he focused on what Jefferson must look like. Inwardly, Hook smirked. He’d done this to the hatter. He’d made Jefferson want him this badly. He was in control.

Any other thoughts that Killian had been considering were wiped out a moment later when he felt the other man’s cock between his legs. Pulling away involuntarily, he gripped the bumper with his hand.

“If you don’t want this, I’m not going to do it.” Jefferson whispered, his voice low and heavy with arousal as he rubbed his cock between the other man’s legs. 

“I do!” Killian grunted, trying not to let on how good it felt to have the other man’s cock move over his hole. “Just do it!”

Relenting, Jefferson shifted slightly and pushed forward. “You need to relax a little.” He whispered, pulling back on Killian’s hips. When he finally managed to get in, Killian let out a ragged gasp.

“Holy hell—“

It hurt more than he’d thought it would. More than Cora’s magic, certainly. That didn’t mean, of course, that he wanted it to stop. He’d experienced far more pain than this in his life, but what Jefferson was doing to him different.

It was different, but he liked it.

Killian was doing his best not to think of exactly what he was doing. Not to think of the fact that the Mad Hatter, a man who he couldn’t stray from for fear of certain death, was fucking him. They hated each other, but they’d tasted each other, and now Jefferson was fucking him. 

“Slow down.” Hook managed to grunt, pulling back in slight discomfort when Jefferson started to thrust.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.” Jefferson repeated, his hips stilling.

“You try getting fucked like this!” Hook snapped. “See if you don’t want a say in how it’s done!”

Grumbling something about how whiny Hook was being, Jefferson slowly began to rock his hips against Hook. It took both of them awhile to get used to it, but soon enough Hook’s pain was nothing compared to his pleasure.

He didn’t know what it was about the way that it felt to have something inside him, but there was something about the ache that Hook couldn’t get enough of. It was something new, which to Captain Hook was worth quite a bit on its own.

Then it happened again. The same thing that Cora had done. Hook didn’t know what it was, or why it felt so good, but Jefferson moved in just the right way and Killian found himself crying out with no abandon. Reaching back, he grabbed Jefferson’s hip and desperately pulled him forward. 

“Wait, shit—fuck—do that again—“ He groaned sometime after they’d found a comfortable pace.

“This?” Jefferson grunted, repeating his thrust. Hook whimpered and pushed back hard, his legs shaking.

“ _That_.” The pirate confirmed.

They went back to silence after that. Jefferson took Killian’s eagerness as an excuse to go faster, and at the hatter’s first round of rapid thrusts that hit him in just the right place, Killian found himself undone. 

His orgasm hit him hot and hard, and for a few seconds all he could see was white. As Killian came down from his own orgasm, the other man kept thrusting. After another few minutes, the hatter’s hips stuttered and slowed. 

He pulled out, and Hook felt something hot and wet slide down his thigh. Looking over his shoulder, he locked gazes with Jefferson.

The hatter’s face was flushed, and his hair was a mess. There were dark bruises on his throat from Hook’s mouth, and his lips were still swollen. With a slight grunt of discomfort Hook turned onto his back and beckoned for Jefferson to join him. 

After a brief hesitation, Jefferson lay back on the hood of the car next to Hook, allowing the other man’s arm to rest around his shoulders. 

“Not that I mind the sex, but we can’t do this forever.” He whispered into the other man’s ear. “I need my revenge, and you need your life back.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Do you think—” Jefferson whispered. Anything else that he’d been going to say, about breaking the spell and finally being free of one another, died on his lips as Killian swallowed it with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so--now that Jefferson and Hook are finally banging, there's going to be a lot of that. If you haven't already figured it out, Needy-Bottom-Hook is my world. But I digress!! I know that there isn't a lot of MadHook smut in the world, so I just wanted to let you all know that if there's something that you've always wanted to see, please drop me a line and I'll try my best to include it!


	13. Pushing the Limit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson and Killian agree that they need to pay Regina a visit.

image from tumblr with permission of artist

 

Looking back, Jefferson was just relieved that he’d managed to drive home without crashing the car with so much on his mind. He’d fucked Captain Hook. That had happened.

It wasn’t an easy thing to digest.

It wasn’t an easy thing to forget. 

Grace was in bed by the time that they got home, which was probably for the best. Jefferson wasn’t keen on trying to explain his disheveled state, or Hook’s awkward gait as he sat himself down at the kitchen table.

Neither of them said anything as Jefferson put together their dinner. He didn’t feel up to making anything too elaborate, and settled for microwaving leftovers. When they were both finally seated and eating, the silence continued.

It was Hook who broke it.

“Remind me, where am I sleeping?”

“You can have my room. I don’t want it anymore.” Jefferson still wasn’t comfortable with the idea of sleeping in the same bed where he’d been with Cora. “I’ll move my things tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Killian agreed, shifting slightly in his seat. Jefferson couldn’t deny that he felt some satisfaction in knowing that he was the reason why the other man was having trouble sitting comfortably. “Starting tomorrow, we need to figure out how to end this.” 

“I agree.” Jefferson nodded and leaned back slightly in his chair. “Regina is probably the only one who can break the spell.” 

“She did cast it.” Hook agreed, pushing his empty plate forward. Pausing, he cocked an eyebrow and met the other man’s gaze, a smirk on his face. “You should pay her a visit.”

“You mean _we_.” Jefferson ran a hand through his hair and let out a disgruntled sigh. “If I could leave this house without you, I would. That’s the whole point.”

“Regina hates me.” Hook interjected, pushing his empty plate forward.

“Join the club. Regina hates everybody.” Jefferson snorted, taking their empty plates to the sink. Doing the dishes at least gave him something to do. Something to keep his hands busy that wasn’t bending a pirate over the hood of his car and fucking him senseless.

“But she didn’t _always_ hate you, did she, mate?”

Jefferson almost broke a plate.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, looking over his shoulder at the other man. “She cursed me just like everyone else in this town.” 

“You seemed eager enough to comfort her in the clock tower.” Hook pointed out. “And more importantly, from what I understand about our dear Evil Queen, Regina doesn’t hate without a reason.”

Jefferson briefly though back to Cora’s death. It was true that he’d been quick to pull Regina into his arms, but it had been a somewhat irrational and definitely one-time thing. For a split-second, he’d seen who Regina had been before becoming the Evil Queen.

For a split-second, he’d seen the girl he’d loved a long, long time ago.

“Exactly.” Jefferson said shortly. “I’ve given her more than enough reasons to hate me. She’d never help me.”

“You could at least talk to her.” It was becoming clear that the pirate wasn’t about to let the subject drop. “I’d wait in the carriage.” 

“It’s a _car_.” Jefferson slammed shut the silverware drawer a little more aggressively than he’d intended. It wasn’t that he didn’t see the merit in going to see Regina. It was that every time he tried to make a deal with her, something went wrong.

“Right. Car. I could wait there.” Killian was picking his teeth with his hook. Jefferson was almost ready to slap him. “How long would it take? Twenty minutes? An hour tops. I could wait that long.”

Jefferson slammed down one of his hands on the table, furious as he stared the other man down.

“I’m not having sex with Regina!” He spat, color high in his cheeks. It wasn’t that he _hadn’t_ had sex with Regina.

He had.

A lot.

A lot time ago when they’d both been a lot younger, and a lot less intelligent. 

“ _Calm_ _down_.”  Hook met his gaze evenly. “I’ll never understand why you’re so against sleeping with beautiful women, but fine. Just talk to her. She’s lonely enough. She’d probably do anything if it meant pretending that someone loved her, even for a few minutes.” 

“That’s cruel.” Jefferson said more quietly, trying to stop himself from remembering the young scared Regina that a young rash Jefferson had kissed senseless years and years ago.

“ _She’s_ cruel.” Hook pointed out.

“I need to change for Grace.”

“We have to get out of this somehow.”

It was a valid point. Jefferson didn’t intend to spend the rest of his life within shouting range of Captain Hook. That raised an important point: just how far _could_ Hook stray?

Sitting down in the chair next to the pirate, Jefferson leaned in and grabbed the other man by the hair so that they were face to face.

“I couldn’t agree more.” His face was less than a foot from the other man’s. After what they’d done, being so intimately near seemed rather trivial. “But before we try to undo this, I think we need to understand it.”

“Keep talking.” Hook idly let his hand rest on Jefferson’s knee, his gaze flickering down to Jefferson’s lips.

“I want to see just how far you can go.” Jefferson thought about kissing Hook, but it really wasn’t the time. He needed to stop thinking about kissing Hook. He _definitely_ needed to stop wondering whether or not the other man’s body would be able to take another round without having to stop for more lube. 

He really needed to stop thinking about that. 

“A very good idea.” A quick pat on Jefferson’s cheek, and Hook was pulling away. “And there’s no time like the present.”

“Fantastic.” Jefferson stood, popped his collar, and followed Hook toward the front of house. “I’ll start walking. Tell me when to stop.”

“Whatever you say.” Once they were outside, Hook leaned up against the door and crossed his arms.

“Right.” Feeling a little awkward, Jefferson put his hands in his pockets and started walking down the road, away from his house. It was late and he was tired and a little sore from the way he’d been laying in the back seat with Hook. All that he really wanted was to go to bed, but it was better to know sooner than later exactly what the limitations of the spell were.

But that didn’t change that it was chilly, and he just wanted to go to bed. As he walked, he kept his head down and out of the wind.

It was because he was watching his feet that he didn’t see the headlights until it was almost too late.

Someone yelled, “Stop!”, the car’s driver hit the breaks, and Jefferson bolted to the side and hoped that it wasn’t too late.

 

xxx

 

At first, it had been fine. Jefferson had walked further and further from him, and there had been no change. By the time that the other man was thirty feet away, Killian was beginning to think that the spell didn’t exist at all and Regina had tricked them.

Then, his chest started to feel tight. His heart was beating too fast. He took an involuntary step forward, toward Jefferson, and barely managed to stop himself. Clasping his hand to his chest, he grunted and forced himself to stand his ground.

He wanted to wait until the last possible moment. Needed to know exactly how far he could get from Jefferson.

But his heart felt like it was trying to fucking rip itself out of his chest.

His vision started to blur, and he gave in. 

“Stop!” He shouted, starting to worry when he saw a flash of light somewhere in the distance.  “Stop!” Killian wasn’t sure if he made a sound the second time. He wasn’t really sure of anything.

His world came to a halt, and he passed out.

When he came to, it wasn’t just Jefferson who was leaning over him.

“I’d say I was in heaven, but the hatter’s here and you’re wearing far too many clothes, Miss Swan.” His voice was slurred and his heart was still beating too fast, but he was alive. 

He was also inside, and slowly became aware that he was on Jefferson’s couch.

“And here I was hoping that you’d died.” Jefferson said dryly, moving to sit on one of the room’s plush armchairs.

“What were you doing?” Emma asked, frowning and taking a seat herself. 

“Just seeing how long my leash is, so to speak.” Hook slowly sat up, only feeling a little dizzy as he smirked at the sheriff. “That’s not against the rules, is it?”

“No.” Emma admitted, crossing her arms. “And Even if you were trying to break the spell, it wouldn’t work. Only Regina can do that.”

“We’re aware.” Jefferson said flatly, evidently ready for Emma to leave. “Why are you here, Emma? You didn’t hit me with your car, so murder wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Dr. Whale told me that you left the hospital without telling anyone.” Emma met Jefferson’s gaze and frowned, not about to back down. “You might be from the wonderland forest or whatever, but until you go back there you have to live by the rules here. You can’t just leave like that—especially when the whole town knows that you’ve got _that_ living with you.” She briefly gestured towards Hook.

“Excuse me. I am much more than a “that”. I happen to also be a pirate, for example—and an excellent kisser.” 

“Shut up.” Jefferson muttered, rubbing his temples. He drew a deep breath, and looked to Emma again. “I’m sorry for leaving. I should have told Victor that I didn’t feel up to talking to Dr. Hopper. I’ve already called him, and I’m going to make an appointment tomorrow.”

“Good.” Emma slouched back slightly in the chair. “I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up.”

Jefferson looked surprised at that, and fished his phone out. He swore quietly, and ran his fingers through his hair, which was still disheveled. His lips were still swollen, too. There was a bruise on his jaw that Hook had left there an hour or two earlier.

The pirate smirked.

“I’m sorry. You must have called while I was driving home. It’s been a long day.”

“Alright.” Emma still looked serious, but she at least seemed more relaxed. “I know that it sucks—the spell, I mean. But it was fair. You know that, Jefferson.”

“I know.” Jefferson echoed quietly. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it” 

“That’s true.” Emma crossed her legs and glanced at Hook. “But you can always call me if he even so much as _implies_ that he’d hurt her.” 

“I’m still here, you know.” Hook muttered. He would have said more, but his head had started to pound. The realization that he’d almost died hit him a moment later, but he brushed it off. This wasn’t the first time.

The other two people in the room chose to continue to ignore him.

“I know.” Jefferson’s eyes narrowed. “But I wouldn’t have to. I’d kill him, damn your laws.”

“I know you would. I’d kill for my kid, too.” Emma stood. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car.” She added.

“I’m sorry for kidnapping your mother.” Jefferson countered, and Hook made a mental note to ask about that later. 

“I know that it wasn’t entirely your fault.” Emma gave Jefferson a pat on the shoulder as she exited the room. “But it’s also why you have to see Dr. Hopper.”

Any semblance of a smile that had been on Jefferson’s face vanished at the implication that there was something wrong with him, but he still stood and showed Emma to the door. 

Hook heard it open and shut, and soon enough Jefferson was back.

“Take this and go to bed.” He pushed a glass of water and some pills into the pirate’s hand. “At least now we know that we don’t have to worry about you getting too far away from me and dropping dead while you’re in the house.”

Hook was certain that they were both glad that they could at least be that far away from one another. From what he could remember, Jefferson had walked over a hundred feet before Killian had started to feel anything. 

“Fine, fine. Goodnight.” Hook downed the pills and the water, and watched Jefferson turn to leave. “We’re going to see Regina tomorrow.” He added.

Jefferson tensed up at the staircase, and looked over his shoulder.

“That would be best.” He agreed. “But as I’ve said, I’m not going to do anything that would give anyone any reason to take Grace away from me.” 

Hook nodded, and watched the other man retreat up the staircase. Now that he was fully conscious, he was again aware of how sore he was. He briefly considered sleeping on the couch, but then it struck him that Cora’s perfume might still be in his sheets. 

Pulling himself up, he made his way up the stairs, yawned, and slipped into what had been Jefferson’s bedroom. Carelessly letting his clothes drop to the floor as he took them off, he soon sank gratefully into bed and pressed his face to the pillow.

It didn’t smell like her anymore.

 

xxx

 

Jefferson could hear Grace banging on Hook’s door from the floor, and he smirked openly as he turned on the coffee maker.

He could only hope that the pirate still felt terrible, and that Grace would make it worse by waking him up. It was better to forget that Killian had helped Cora blackmail him while they were working to break the spell, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have a little fun every once upon awhile. 

Grace was running down the stairs a minute later and sitting herself down at the table. 

“He says that he’s coming.” 

“Thank you.” Jefferson bent down to kiss her hair, and slid a full plate onto the table a moment later. “Are you ready for school?”

“Yes!” She started to eat, and Jefferson couldn’t help but smile. Everything had been worth it. Everything had been for her. He’d do whatever it took to keep her safe, and he knew that getting rid of Hook was an integral part of that.

“I’m surprised that the school is willing to send the bus all the way out here.” Jefferson added, sitting down with his own breakfast. “I’m told that’s one of the benefits of small-town living. We certainly didn’t have that in the Enchanted Forest.” 

Grace laughed, and his heart melted.

“Good morning.” Killian walked into the room a moment later, and Jefferson was pleased to see that he still wasn’t walking quite right. 

“Good morning.” Turning to hide his grin, Jefferson got control of his face before setting down Hook’s breakfast. He’d thought about not making the other man anything, but after fucking him, it was probably the least he could do. “Here.”

The next few minutes passed in a surprisingly easy silence between the two men. Jefferson poured coffee, and they both half-listened to Grace. Then the school bus came, he kissed his daughter goodbye, and was alone with the pirate once again.

Before Cora’s return, he and Grace had developed a routine.  Out of bed. Breakfast. Bus. It was nice to see that maybe that didn’t have to completely collapse with the new addition to their household.

“How are you feeling?” Jefferson asked, sipping his coffee and watching the other man. Killian’s neck was sporting a few impressive bruises. Jefferson would have felt like gloating, but under his scarf he wasn’t faring much better. 

“Just fine.” Killian straightened up, and clearly bit down a retort when Jefferson poured him some water and set down some pills next to his plate.

“Are you ready to pay Regina a visit?” Jefferson asked once he’d finished most of the dishes and Hook had finished eating.

“Absolutely.” Hook leaned forward, and then paused. “You know that I was serious, don’t you?”

“Serious about what?” Jefferson asked, taking Hook’s empty plate over to the sink and making a note that he really needed to have Hook start helping out around the house. Dishes would be hard because of his hand, but maybe something else?....

“You should fuck Regina.”

He actually dropped a plate, and was relieved when it fell harmlessly into the full sink. 

“And I told you that’s a terrible idea!” He turned around and frowned heavily. “Even if she broke the spell, she’d kill us both as soon as she found out why I’d done it.”

“Well, I think it’s worth a try.” Hook stood and gestured towards the front of the house. “Is she expecting us?”

“I called before breakfast.” Jefferson admitted, pulling his coat from the back of his chair and shrugging it on. “There is one thing that you were right about.” He added.

“And what’s that?” Killian asked as they approached the front door, adjusting his jacket. Jefferson had left a pile of clean clothes in the bathroom—things that he didn’t mind sharing. They still needed to go shopping.

“You should definitely wait in the car.”

Hook rolled his eyes in a way that told Jefferson he still expected the Mad Hatter to get the Evil Queen out of her panties. 

“Whatever you say.” 

They were in the car soon enough, and on their way to the belly of the beast—to Regina.


	14. The Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian isn't jealous, but he's not happy, either.

Jefferson felt somewhat numb as he walked up to Regina’s front door. Hook shouted something lewd from the car, but he wasn’t really listening. 

It had been awhile since he’d been alone with Storybrooke’s _beloved_ mayor. There was a reason for that—their encounters never ended well for him. He took a deep breath, and knocked.

“Jefferson.” The door opened, and he was met with Regina’s most dangerous smile. “So sweet of you to pay me a visit.”

Jefferson grunted in response and walked over the threshold, casting one last glance at his car before the door closed behind him.

“And what brings you here today, my dear?” Regina asked so sweetly that Jefferson momentarily feared for his life.

He took a deep breath, threw caution to the wind, and decided to be honest.

“I can’t live with him anymore. He’s insufferable.” Jefferson took a step toward Regina.

“Good. You aren’t supposed to like it—it’s your punishment as much as his.” Regina laughed and leaned back against the bannister, eying the hatter curiously. “Though I will admit I thought it would take you longer than this to come crying to me to break the spell.” 

“So you won’t?” Jefferson asked. As if he’d needed to. 

He hadn’t honestly believed that she’d consider helping him.

“Of course not.” Regina beckoned him closer, and he found himself blindly obeying and moving towards her. “You should really consider yourself lucky, you know.” She cooed, tugging gently at the front of his jacket. 

“Why?” Jefferson asked, idly watching the way that her lips moved and memorizing everything about her that didn’t remind him of Cora. Everything that he’d kissed and fucked and—no.

He really needed to stop thinking about sex so much. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t getting enough of it.

“I could have taken Grace away from you. I could have sentenced you back to that big, lonely house. All by yourself.” 

“So why didn’t you?” Jefferson asked, letting his hands rest on her hips. They’d never really been good at keeping their hands off of each other. It didn’t matter whether they had kissing or killing on their minds.

“Because, dear.” Regina sighed, and tilted her chin up. “That’s the life I’m living now, and I don’t think that I could wish it on you a second time.”

Jefferson’s brow furrowed.

“They still hate you?” He asked. “But you killed…” He didn’t dare say that she’d killed her mother out loud. Even a suggestion of it had changed her expression, and he kissed her to keep her calm. 

She kissed him back. It was unexpected. Her lips were softer than Killian’s. Her chin wasn’t covered in scratchy, itchy stubble. She wasn’t Captain Hook, and so he kissed her again.

She pulled away after a few minutes, and let her chin rest against his shoulder.

“They’ve forgiven me, but they still don’t trust me. Henry hasn’t been to see me since the trial.” She admitted, and for a moment Jefferson wished that they’d stayed together. 

If they’d never fallen out of love, then maybe all of the terrible things that they’d both done wouldn’t have happened. It was a foolish thought, and he let it die a moment later.

“Hook wanted me to fuck you and tell you I love you so that you’d break the spell.” He admitted, because something about the way that she was scraping her teeth over his jaw made him scared to keep secrets from her. 

“Of course he did.” Regina laughed, starting to unbutton his jacket. 

“You’re not mad?” Jefferson asked, his cock stirring hopefully at the idea of going somewhere that wasn’t in Captain Hook.

“Of course not. You know better than to do that.” She pushed is coat off of his shoulders and went to work on his vest. “Honestly. As if you’d have the nerve.”

“Then why do I get the feeling that you’re going to fuck me anyway?” He asked, hands on her waist.

“Oh, Jefferson.” Regina laughed again, the sound falling hollow on his ears. “You would have come here eventually, spell or no spell.” She paused. “We’ve never needed a _reason_ for this.”

She wasn’t exactly wrong. Even before the curse had been broken they’d found themselves in the same bed occasionally. They weren’t memories that he associated with the time they’d spent together in Fairytaleland all those years ago, but her arms had been a nice respite from the prison she’d built for him. 

Regina’s shirt was somewhere on the floor and her bra was unclasped by the time that her hands started pulling at his scarf.

They’d made it from the bannister to the couch. Regina was straddling him, her heels forgotten on the carpet.

“We don’t do this nearly enough these days, you know.” She mused, untying the scarf and letting it puddle on the floor next to the couch. 

“I couldn’t agree m—Regina?” Jefferson frowned.

Regina’s gaze was on his neck, and eyebrows were raised. For a moment he thought of his scar, but that wouldn’t make Regina pause. She’d kissed it enough in the past.

“My, my, Jefferson. Who gave you _these_?” She asked in amusement, tracing one of the dark bruises on his neck.

Jefferson could have slapped himself. How had he forgot?

“I….” His mouth was dry, and he didn’t know what to say. “Emma visited me last night.”

“But Ms. Swan didn’t fuck you, Jefferson.” Regina paused, and clasped a hand over her mouth to mask her delight. “No. It can’t be.” 

“No!” Jefferson repeated, sitting up and grabbing Regina’s wrists, pulling her hands from her face so that she had to look at him. “No—not—that didn’t—“ 

“A man well-travelled indeed!” Laughing uncontrollably, Regina got off of Jefferson and reached behind herself to hook her bra. “It’s times like this I wish that I had friends! Can you imagine the look on—on—I don’t know _Rumpelstiltskin’s_ face if I told him that you two are _fucking_?” 

“No! Regina, we’re not—you can’t—“ Jefferson nearly fell to his knees and started to beg.

“Oh, Jefferson, you sweet idiot.” Regina’s laughter had died down to a giggle. “I’m not going to _tell_ anyone. This can be our little secret.” 

“What do I owe you?” He asked immediately, wishing that he’d at least gotten to have sex with her before she humiliated him. That was what usually happened. This wasn’t a nice change.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something.” She gestured toward the door and smoothed down her hair.

Jefferson hadn’t seen her smile that much in _decades_.

He thought about trying to say something else—about denying what Regina had figured out—but chose instead to put his clothes back on as quickly as possible and make for the door.

The Evil Queen’s laughter was still ringing in his ears as he got into the car and slammed the door, only to be met by Captain Hook’s smirk. 

“You did it. You fucked her.” The other man observed.

“Shut up.” Jefferson growled, turning on the car.

“How was it?” The pirate yet again proved that he didn’t know how or when to hold his tongue.

“Better than you.” Jefferson spat. It was the first thing that came to mind, and it at least shut Hook up. When they pulled into the driveway, they were both scowling.

  

xxx

 

By the time that they got home, Hook was still angry. Maybe it was because Jefferson wasn’t telling him what had happened with Regina. Maybe it was because he was just so sick of the other man that being close to him all of the fucking time was wearing him down.

He stayed wrapped up in his thoughts through dinner, not really paying attention as Grace babbled on about her day and Jefferson good-naturedly told her how wonderful she was.

It was only once he lay down in the bed that used to smell like Cora that he realized what he wanted to do.

He wanted to fuck Jefferson again. Sort of.  He’d tried just using his fingers in the shower, but that hadn’t really worked out. It hadn’t been enough, and he didn’t have a second hand to take care of his cock with.

Coming to terms with the fact that he wanted Jefferson to fuck him again wasn’t fun. It was easier not to think about it, and to put his energy into staying quiet as he made his way down the hall to Jefferson’s room.

When he opened the door, he heard the other man shift slightly and knew that he was awake.

“Shh.” Hook whispered, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress. “There’s need to wake Grace.”

“What do you want?” Jefferson asked, blinking a few times as he woke up properly and sat up so that he could look the other man in the eye. “Whatever it is, I’m sure that we can talk about it in the mo—“

Killian was kissing Jefferson before he could finish his thought, and he wasn’t being pushed away. Instead, one of the most delightful noises that Killian had ever heard escaped the hatter’s lips, and there were suddenly arms around his waist, tugging him closer.

This was certainly going to be easier than trying to fuck in the carriage. Car. Thing.

A low moan in his throat, Killian moved so that he was on top of Jefferson, pushing him down and opening his mouth against the other man’s throat.

“Fuck…” Jefferson breathed out, pushing his hips up against Hook’s. “What exactly?....”

Taking one of Jefferson’s hands in his own, Hook slid it down to his ass. “Don’t say anything about it.” He warned, voice coming out low and dangerous.

“About?...” Jefferson pulled back so that their foreheads were pressed together, his hand slipping into the thin pants that the pirate had worn to bed. Killian shifted slightly as the other man got a good grip on his ass, and pressed down into the touch.

“You’re going to fuck me.” He growled, forcing himself to believe that he had just as much power and control as when he fucked women.

“I thought you were mad at me.” Jefferson sat up and started kissing Hook’s neck, his mouth open and hot and wet and _everything_ that Hook wanted. Meanwhile, Jefferson’s hands briefly left his ass just long enough to push both of their pants down, leaving nothing between them.

“Why would I be mad at you?” Hook asked, pleased that he could feel the other man’s arousal against his backside.  “Because you fucked Regina? I don’t care where your dick’s been. I just care where it’s going. Besides,” He paused. “I thought _you_ were mad at _me_.”

Jefferson was quiet for a few moments after that, his fingers pushing hopefully between Hook’s legs and his mouth busy at his clavicle. When he finally spoke, Hook was surprised. 

“I am mad. But I didn’t…” He muttered, and it was the pirate’s turn to question the hatter.

“Didn’t what?” He asked, unable to keep a smirk off of his face as he reached down and gave one of the other man’s nipples a tug. “Tell me.” 

“I didn’t fuck Regina.” Jefferson admitted, his face hidden against Hook’s chest. “I tried, but she…I didn’t do it.”

“You’re pathetic.” Hook laughed, trying to ignore how the anger that had been following him around since their visit to the mayor’s was suddenly gone. “And here I was hoping that your dick had already been warned up today." 

“Do you want me to fuck you or not?” Jefferson growled, grabbing Hook’s hair and yanking his head back so that they were eye to eye again.

“I already told you.” Hook breathed out, rolling his hips down over Jefferson’s. 

They went back to kissing after that. The other man let go of him and Hook followed his movements just long enough to see that Jefferson was fishing around in the nightstand for something. It probably would have been easier if his tongue wasn’t shoved down the other man’s throat.

Killian just wanted to keep going. They were both hard, and he wasn’t in the mood to wait. He just wanted to get the other man inside him as soon as possible. That way it would be over sooner.

That way Hook could go back to pretending that he didn’t like what it felt like to have Jefferson between his legs. He could go back to flirting with Emma and grinning at Regina and remembering Cora and _fuck_ Jefferson’s fingers were wet—when had that happened—and they were almost in and—and—and—

“Fuck!” Hook buried his face in the hatter’s neck and pushed down against the fingers that were at his hole. They went in more easily than the first time they’d been together, and even though Hook was still a little sore from being fucked over the hood of Jefferson’s car, he didn’t want it to stop. “Put another one in.” He growled, moving so that he could bite down hard on the crook of the other man’s neck.

A third finger went in, and it fucking burned and he loved it and just needed a little more and Jefferson really needed to touch him more and fuck fuck _fuck_ Killian needed to calm down before Jefferson realized just how much he fucking fucking _fuck_ needed this. 

“Stop moving so much.” Jefferson muttered, his free hand grabbing Killian’s ass and pulling him up so that he was kneeling with his legs on either side of Jefferson’s chest. The hatter licked his lips and looked up at the pirate, an eyebrow cocked. 

“What?” Killian asked, moving slightly over Jefferson’s fingers as the other man stretched him.

Jefferson smirked, pulled out his fingers, and pushed Killian down onto his back. Killian almost hit him, but then Jefferson’s lips were around his cock and his fingers were in his ass and it was _bliss_.

There were low, wet sounds coming from Jefferson every time that he sucked Hook down, and his fingers were spreading him so wide and ready that he almost made the other man stop and start fucking him right then. 

He would have, but Jefferson’s mouth was so hot and wet around him that instead he realized that he was going to finish. For a moment he was worried about coming too soon, but then the thought of Jefferson swallowing got lodged in his brain.

Reaching down, he grabbed the back of the other man’s head and held it down, his orgasm hitting him a few seconds later. The hatter coughed and gagged around his cock but, surprisingly to Killian, didn’t try to pull away. 

By the time that he let go of the other man’s hair, Jefferson was clearly desperate for air. Sitting up, he coughed a few times and licked his—red, swollen, fucking beautiful—lips. Killian had expected the other man to spit on the sheets, but soon realized that the other had swallowed actually everything.

“Couldn’t wait?” Jefferson teased, his voice hoarse.

“Shut up.” Killian pushed Jefferson back down onto his back. He wasn’t hard anymore, but he didn’t care. He just wanted other man to fuck him. Jefferson’s hands were on his hips a moment later, and Killian was moving down a little awkwardly onto his cock.

When it finally went in, Killian couldn’t help but moan. If he hadn’t taken off his hook before going to bed—it wasn’t always wise to sleep with it on, big surprise—he might have killed Jefferson with how desperately he grabbed onto him.

It took them both a minute or two to start moving comfortably, but Hook figured it out soon enough. Bracing himself against Jefferson with his bad arm, he grabbed the other man by the hair and kissed him hard.

Jefferson’s hands were on his ass, keeping him steady and open as he furiously rutted up against the other man. Killian, for his part, was moving down just as desperately and taking him nearly to the hilt with every move.

He was glad that Jefferson had had the sense to use plenty of lube, because Killian certainly hadn’t thought of it. Even with how much time the other man had spent getting him ready, it still hurt. He didn’t care about that, but he did care about how awkward it would be to sit down at the breakfast the next morning. 

There wasn’t really time to think anymore. Hook was hard again, and his face was buried in the crook of Jefferson’s neck. The other man’s skin was hot and sticky with sweat, but the pirate wasn’t fairing much better.

He wanted to do something to assert himself and remind Jefferson that he was in the one in control, but the other man was moving against him _just right_ and he found that his voice wasn’t really working.

With little warning, Jefferson’s movements up against Killian became faster and more erratic, and Hook accidently bit down a little too hard on his shoulder. It didn’t seem to deter the other man. 

When Jefferson came, he held Killian down over his cock until his hips finally stilled.

Killian for his part was still hard, but exhausted, and didn’t have the energy for a snide remark. All that he did was groan helplessly as the other man kissed him and pulled out. He was on his back a moment later, and Jefferson’s fingers were where his cock had been moments before.

“Fuck…” Hook exhaled, pushing down against the fingers. Jefferson’s other hand was on his cock, and his brilliant, beautiful lips were making a bruised mess of his neck. 

“Say my name.” Jefferson breathed out, bending his fingers and rubbing _just right_. Killian’s toes curled and he dug one of his heels into the mattress.

Part of him didn’t want to acknowledge the hatter, but after what the other man had done he was willing to indulge him a little.

“Jefferson.” Killian moaned into the other man’s hair, realizing that he’d only said it a handful of times since they’d met. Neither of them spoke after that. Killian’s orgasm came quickly enough, and Jefferson kept moving his hand until he was done.

He was still on his back minutes later. Jefferson was on his stomach, an arm thrown lazily around the pirate. In the first few moments after they’d finished, a deep sense of satisfaction had settled over Killian. 

It didn’t last long.

Feeling good about being fucked was unnerving, and not quite right, and uncertainty soon settled in his gut. He glanced down at his wrist, and Milah’s name. Uncertainty turned into guilt. Before he could say anything, Jefferson spoke.

“You know this doesn’t mean anything.” 

It was exactly what Killian wanted to hear, so why did it almost hurt?

“We’re just making due.” Killian agreed, idly tracing patterns in the arm that was slung over his chest. “Until we break the spell. Then it’s back to Miss Swan and Regina and their sweet cunts.”

“Exactly.” Jefferson turned onto his side, so that his fingers were splayed over Killian’s stomach. “As soon as the spell breaks, we can end this.” 

Another few moments of silence.

“I’m going back to bed.” Killian announced. He was exhausted, and sore, but not about to sleep in another man’s bed without Cora between them. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood and ignored how sore he was going to be in the morning.

“Goodnight.” Jefferson pulled the blankets up to cover himself, and Killian left without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VioletHyena thought this would be a good idea and I agreed wholeheartedly. I probably should have waited to post this (considering that I updated last night whoops) but couldn't wait. Just so ya'll know, there will be no more than two more chapters. It's almost over.


	15. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. It isn’t the end because there’s nothing more to say. It’s the end because neither of them will ever say it.

_Day 7_

It had only been a week since the spell had been cast, but it felt like a year.

They weren’t making any progress in breaking the spell, but at least the sex was good—except for that one time when Grace had a nightmare Killian had to stand naked in the closet for an hour waiting for her to go back to bed.

_Day 30_  

After what felt like the longest month of his life, the Charmings had finally decided that Killian could have his ship back.

He’d wanted to take inventory of what they’d taken, but ended up sucking Jefferson’s cock in the captain’s cabin.

_Day 40_

Killian found that it was easier to live with Jefferson if he drank.

It dulled his senses, and made loving the way it felt when Jefferson was between his legs more bearable.

To be fair, sometimes Jefferson was drunk, too. 

Once when they’d both been drinking and Grace wasn’t home, he climbed on top of the hatter and decided that he was going to fuck him.

Killian ended up with a broken nose, and Jefferson ended up hyperventilating and screaming.

 

_Day 41_

 

Killian didn’t really remember calling the hospital, but it had to have been him.

Grace hadn’t been home. 

He was still drunk when they got to the hospital, and not really paying attention to what Whale and the nurses were saying.

“Anxiety attack.”

“Not taking his medication.” 

They set him up in a room of his own next to Jefferson’s, with an IV in his arm and a pitcher of water. He dozed off. When he came to, he was sober and facing Dr. Hopper, who informed him that the sheriff was going to stay with them for the next week to make sure that things were okay.

Killian had made a remark about Emma, but it turned out that Dr. Hopper was talking about Charming.

It wasn’t a very good week, but by the end of it Jefferson was taking his meds again and Killian was drinking less.

It wasn’t that he’d had a problem before—it was just that once he’d seen Jefferson look at Charming’s ass for just a little too long, and he’d decided that he’d rather be alert than drunk.

 

_Day 65_

Even if they didn’t hate one another as much as before, both of them still needed to get out of the house. Like nearly every other member of Storybrooke’s community, they found themselves at Granny’s on a regular basis.

Every Friday before picking Grace up from school, they’d show up together (as always—there was no hiding that they were still under Regina’s spell). Jefferson ordered tea, Killian ordered something alcoholic, and they spent a pleasant hour catching up with whoever else happened to be there.

They didn’t always sit together. As far as Jefferson was concerned, they spent too much time in each other’s company. Any opportunity to talk to someone who wasn’t Killian Jones was one that he was going to take.

But that didn’t stop them from occasionally ending up in the same booth or next to each other at the bar. On one of those occasions, they were both having a grand time flirting with Ruby.

Jefferson didn’t really notice when Killian’s hand moved to his thigh. The pirate seemed equally unaware, but Ruby paused.

“When’s the wedding?” She joked. The comment was harmless, but Killian immediately snatched his hand away and Jefferson abruptly left to use the toilet.

They didn’t touch each other for a full month after that.

 

_Day 70_

 

Even before the incident at Granny’s, Jefferson had spent most of his time with his nose in a book. Before they fucked. After they fucked. Before dinner. After dinner.

When Killian asked about it, Jefferson explained that the stories had to come from _somewhere_. Maybe they could help.

Killian had tried reading some of Storybrooke’s literature, but had given up halfway through _Peter Pan_ , which he found utterly ridiculous. Still, it was nice to have something to pass the time while he and Jefferson weren’t fucking.

He hadn’t realized just how much time they devoted to sex until they stopped having it.

 

_Day 95_

 

It had been by far one of the longest months of Killian’s life.

It hadn’t been hard to get used to not touching Jefferson—not after the way that Ruby had cocked her eyebrow at his hand on the hatter’s leg—but time seemed somehow slower when they weren’t kissing.

They finally gave in at a dinner party that Regina had thrown to celebrate her son’s birthday.

Jefferson had insisted that they both “wear something nice for a change”. Killian had grumbled and complained about it for a week, but when push came to shove he would have worn anything or nothing at all to see Jefferson in his new suit.

“You look good.” Jefferson offered as they observed Storybrooke’s other residents catch up on gossip.

Killian hummed in agreement, focused on Jefferson’s lips. They were both tipsy on champagne, and that was as good an excuse as any to sneak out Regina’s back door when no one was looking.

He kissed Jefferson in the orchard where no one could see them, and the other man kissed him back.

It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as five minutes later when they pissed all over Her Majesty’s apple trees.

 

_Day 96_

 

The next morning they woke up in Regina’s living room. Jefferson was on the couch, and Killian was on Jefferson. 

In a moment of weakness, Killian thought to himself that Jefferson’s lips looked just as good when they were laughing at Regina’s piss-covered trees as while they were sucking his cock.

 

_Day 100_

 

They still talked a lot about how they were going to convince Regina to break the spell, but nothing ever happened. 

Jefferson spent his time taking care of Grace, fucking Killian, and reading.

Most recently, he’d buried his nose in the work of Ralph Waldo Emerson. He quite enjoyed it until he reached a passage that made him think.

_Our friendships hurry to short and poor conclusions, because we have made them a texture of wine and dreams, instead of the tough fibre of the human heart._

 

_Day 107_

 

Killian didn’t really enjoy escorting Jefferson to his appointments with Dr. Hopper. The other man always tried to find reasons not to go, and spent the first half of the day in grim silence. Afterwards, sometimes his mood improved. Usually it didn’t.

Around Grace he was always smiling, but when they were alone Killian saw a far less secure man. He saw that Jefferson was still terrified of the Mad Hatter.

Teaching Killian to drive hadn’t been easy for either of them, but it made the trips to Dr. Hopper’s office much more bearable. When Jefferson had to drive there, he tended not to see stop signs or civilians.

When it came to his appointments with the good doctor, Jefferson had good days and bad days.

Unfortunately for Killian, the day in question was a bad one. They’d gotten into the car in silence, and Jefferson’s expression was dark as he stared out the window. Killian was certain that if not for Grace, Jefferson would have stopped seeing Dr. Hopper a long time ago.

He may not have gone at all.

Killian parked with almost no trouble, and their silence continued as the climbed the stairs to the doctor’s office. At the door, he grabbed Jefferson’s elbow.

“It’s not just you. Everyone in this town is crazy.”

Jefferson held his gaze for a long moment. The hatter’s eyes were red. He hadn’t been sleeping. 

“Except for me, I mean.” He added, and the corner of Jefferson’s mouth twitched.

Neither of them really noticed the kiss until after it had happened, and the door had closed behind the hatter.

 

_Day 252_

It was getting worse. 

Sometimes, Killian would kiss the back of Jefferson’s neck while he was cooking dinner.

Other times, Jefferson would lean across the table and press his lips against Killian’s after Grace left dinner to do her homework.

The kisses weren’t the problem.

The problem was that they didn’t lead to sex.

They were “just because” kisses, which were for women. Not each other.

Even worse, sometimes Jefferson would find himself leaning comfortably against the pirate in the living room while he was reading, and by the time that he noticed, the pirate had dozed off without pushing him away. 

Killian was staying longer and longer in Jefferson’s bed after they had sex. 

It was getting to the point where Jefferson almost didn’t expect—didn’t want—the other man to leave. It was easier to fall asleep if the pirate hadn’t left, but harder to wake up after that and see the Killian was gone. 

Jefferson mentioned this problem to Hopper, and he had the audacity to laugh. 

Jefferson left early that day, and fucked Killian in the bathroom at Granny’s.

When they were done, he suggested that they reacquaint themselves with the women of Storybrooke.

Killian was quick to agree.

 

_Day 300_

 

There was a party at Granny’s, and they’d been more than happy to go. It seemed like a great opportunity to spend time with Regina, and Emma, and whoever the hell else they could find with breasts and a cunt.

Killian had been having a great time, too, until he saw Ruby kiss Jefferson in the kitchen. 

Flat out refusing to acknowledge the jealous monster that had suddenly taken up residence in his chest, he kissed the Evil Queen in the bathroom—

—and thought about the Mad Hatter. 

He found him in the parking lot, and it was immediately clear that neither of them had been able to follow through.

It was cold and they’d forgotten their coats inside, but that didn’t stop Killian from kissing Jefferson hard and slamming him up against the side of Charming’s pick-up. 

“I don’t want to be with you.” He said through gritted teeth.              

“I don’t want to be with you, either.” Jefferson agreed, and kissed him back.

“I wanted to fuck Regina, but there wasn’t time.”

“I was going to be with Ruby, but she was too busy helping Granny.”

“So fuck me instead.”

It turned out that Charming really was an idiot. He’d left his truck unlocked.

 

_Day 327_

Jefferson had been incredibly clear that they both had to be sober if it was going to actually happen.

He’d first brought it up after the party, mostly while they were kissing in places where nothing could actually happen, and Killian had started masturbating to the idea of it as soon as it became clear that it was a real possibility.

It had become a reality when, while they were kissing in the shower, Hook looked down and saw that Jefferson was fingering himself.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to stop!” Killian threatened later when they were both in bed. His fingers had been between the other man’s legs for the better part of an hour, and the bottle of lube that had become a constant presence on Jefferson’s nightstand was almost empty.“If you’re scared, then we don’t have to do this.” 

“I’m not scared!” Jefferson spat back, his face red as he turned it away from Killian and kept his legs spread. “But this is new for me.”

“Well it’s not new for me.” Killian pointed out, rubbing his cock against the other man’s hole.

He’d tried to push it in twice since the shower, but Jefferson hadn’t been able to relax enough to let him in.

 “Stop acting like I’m going to hurt you.” He dragged his tongue up the other man’s stomach. “I’m not. I’m going to take care of you.” Killian paused, and wrestled with the idea of not hating the hatter. “I’m going to make you feel good.”

When Jefferson was finally ready, Killian insisted that he take him from behind.

He said that it was because that was what hurt the least, and that was true—but what he really wanted to do was make sure that it didn’t feel like they were making love.

 

_Day 328_

 

Killian made him breakfast.

It was burnt.

Jefferson ate it all.

 

_Day 366_

They were in The Rabbit Hole

Jefferson kissed him on the mouth.

They were so fucking drunk.

Everyone saw it.

Everyone knew.

A camera flashed, and Killian kissed him back.

 

xxx

 

“I didn’t want that to happen!” 

Neither of them remembered coming home from The Rabbit Hole, but both of them could see the pictures that Regina had sent to Jefferson’s cell phone.

Pictures of Jefferson pulling Killian into a kiss while their friends stared at them in shock in the background. 

“You think that I did?”

They were fighting, and it was loud. Their only saving grace was that they’d been planning this weekend for a while, and their daughter was at a sleepover.

_Jefferson’s_ daughter was at a sleepover. 

“You’re the one who kissed me!” 

“You’re the one who dared me to!” 

“I did?” 

“You did!” Jefferson threw a book at Killian, narrowly missing his face.

“I didn’t!”

Jefferson threw his hands up in the arm and sank heavily down into an armchair, anger radiating off of him.

“Now everybody knows!”

“Knows what?” Killian challenged. “They don’t know anything! There’s nothing to know!” 

He threw the book back at the hatter, and it harmlessly bounced off the wall and fell to the living room floor.

“They know! They know that we…” Jefferson gestured helplessly. 

“We don’t—we aren’t!” Killian spat, kicking the mantle hard. 

“It doesn’t even matter.” Jefferson let his head rest in his hand. “Regina’s never going to break the spell. You’re never going to kill Rumpelstiltskin. 

“Maybe if you spent less time with your nose in books and more time _thinking about ways to end this_ we’d already be free from each other!” Killian snapped. “God knows I’d love to leave you!”

Jefferson laughed. That was always trouble.

He picked up the book that he’d thrown at Killian earlier and took a few easy strides toward the pirate until his back was to the wall. 

“As if any of this is my fault.” He whispered. “It’s yours. Yours, and Cora’s. I’ve done nothing, and you deserve nothing from me. Live in my house. Follow me. But I owe you nothing.”

They both still smelled like alcohol.

“Fine.” Killian growled, and shoved Jefferson away without even thinking about kissing him. “Go back to your books. I hope that they tell you what you need.”

Jefferson laughed again, turned to the wall, and leaned against it for support. He looked terrible. His eyes were red and his lips were swollen, and Killian vaguely remembered the other man snorting cocaine off of his chest the night before. 

“They have.” He lazily opened the book, his finger moving down the page. “They have. They’ve told me about you.” 

“And what do they say?” Hook asked. 

Even across the room Killian could see that he was still mad. No matter how much he smiled around Grace, and what a perfect father he was, when his daughter was out of sight the hatter would _always_ be mad.

The hatter would always be mad, and they would _always_ be together. They didn’t have a choice. 

“Thou art to me,” Jefferson spoke slowly and clearly. “a delicious torment.” 

His voice broke, and Killian caught an accidental glimpse of himself in the mirror. 

“Thine ever,”

It was at that moment he realized that he was mad, too.

 “or never.” 

Jefferson didn’t stop laughing when Killian kissed him.

“I won’t love you.” Killian whispered. 

Jefferson smiled. 

“Good.”

 

xxx

 

_“Dear Friend: I am not very wise: my moods are quite attainable: and I respect thy genius: it is to me as yet unfathomed; yet dare I not presume in thee a perfect intelligence of me, and so **thou art to me a delicious torment**. Thine ever, or never._

_Yet these uneasy pleasures and fin plains are for curiosity and not for life. They are not to be indulged. This is to weave cobweb, and not cloth. Our friendships hurry to short and poor conclusions, because we have made them a texture of wine and dreams, instead of the tough fibre of the human heart.”_

_-Ralph Waldo Emerson_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it--after over a year, I've finally finished this fic. Thank you so much to everyone who commented, kudos'd, read--whatever! This fic has grown and changed a lot since it started, but the ending never changed.


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